Is It Love?
by BlackthornUnicorn98
Summary: Set during 6th year. After an explosion in Potions class involving Seamus Finnigan and a draught of Amortentia, Draco and Hermione, as well as Harry and Lavender, find themselves feeling the potion's effects. But what happens when Harry and Lavender's effects wear off, but Draco and Hermione's do not? Is there something more going on under the surface? Rating for safety. COMPLETED!
1. Chapter 1

**(Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this chapter. They belong to J.K. Rowling.)**

**IS IT LOVE?: A DRAMIONE STORY**

**Chapter 1: Taffys, Gits, and Interesting Introductions**

**(Day 1)**

The Great Hall was abuzz with lively chatter and activity as the rays of the setting sun shone through the windows, casting a glow upon the many Hogwarts students present in the room. The dinner feast had just begun, and students were excitedly mulling about, conversing with one another about any number of interesting topics and eating the delicious food that had magically appeared before them.

Hermione Granger sat down next to Harry Potter, who was talking with fellow sixth-year Gryffindor Ron Weasley about the events of Potions class earlier that day. Professor Snape had been in an odd mood, snapping at people more than he normally did. He'd taken five points from both Gryffindor and Hufflepuff when Susan Bones and Dean Thomas didn't successfully cut up a Roarkle bean properly, and it had gone flying toward Vincent Crabbe's desk, spraying him in the face with an unidentifiable, but particularly pungent, orange liquid. Snape had also snapped at Hermione when she'd offered to help Crabbe clean it up, and he eventually called class early and shooed everyone out because the chubby Slytherin was beginning to sprout tulips all over his body. The Gryffindors raced back to their tower, laughing until their sides hurt.

"Stupid bloke deserved it!" Ron was saying.

"It wasn't like Dean and Susan _meant_ to launch the bean straight at him," Harry countered. "It _was_ an accident, you know. Did you see the look on Professor Snape's face?"

"Yeah, I did. His face was turning red, like a tomato. That never happens to Snape. Ever."

Hermione crossed her arms. "It wasn't funny, Ron. Stupid blighter though he is, Crabbe could have been seriously hurt. Thank goodness Snape had an antidote handy. Who knows what would have happened if he didn't?"

"Oi!" Ron exclaimed. "Since when are you one to defend a Slytherin?"

"I'm not expressly defending him as a Gryffindor," Hermione protested. "He's a fellow student. I would have done the same for anyone else in the class."

Harry shot her a knowing look. "Except Malfoy."

The three fell silent. Draco Malfoy had been their enemy for as long as they had attended Hogwarts together. He looked down on many people for a variety of reasons, not just because their blood status, but because he simply believed that he was better than everyone in every possible way. His family was indeed quite rich, and he always got whatever he wanted; this was a privilege that not one member of the trio could even begin to imagine.

"Yes, Harry. Except Malfoy," Hermione replied, taking a strawberry from a golden plate in the middle of the table. "I'd hex him in a second, given the chance."

Ron looked off in the distance. "Speak of the Slytherin devil," he grumbled.

Hermione and Harry turned to see none other than Draco Malfoy himself, with a group of his goons flocking around him. In the midst of them was Crabbe, who looked rather strange with the odd purple welts where the tulips had grown on his body. He actually looked a bit sick, in fact. Draco had a nasty grin on his face, but it morphed into a scowl as soon as he laid eyes on the three Gryffindors. "Alright there, Weasel? And you, Scarhead? Ate some bad pudding, have you?" He got a laugh from his friends at his comment.

Ron stood up. "Shove off, the lot of you," he growled, waving his hand at them.

Draco just rolled his eyes. "Who pissed in your porridge this morning, Weasel-bee?" he joked.

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry warned. "You and your pathetic horde of idiots. Just leave us alone."

Draco walked straight up to Harry. "You think you can tell me what to do, can you, Potter?" he snarled. "Well? Do you?"

Harry stood up to look Draco directly in the eye. "I swear I'll hex you into oblivion."

"Is that a threat?" Draco said angrily. "Look, you lot! Potter's threatening me. I'm quivering with fear." He mockingly whimpered, making Harry clench his fists.

Unable to stop himself, Harry pulled out his wand, preparing to curse the ever-loving hell out of Draco, and the blonde Slytherin began to reach for his own wand when Hermione inserted herself in between the two boys, pushing them apart from each other. "Stop it! Stop it, both of you!" she groaned. "You're behaving like childish brats. Malfoy, leave us alone, and stop trying to start up trouble."

Draco narrowed his eyes at her and wrenched her hand away. "Anything for you, Mudblood," he uttered, his ice cold eyes looking into her deep brown ones. She twitched under his penetrating gaze, willing herself not to lose her composure, before Draco finally huffed and skulked off to his own table, with his group of Slytherins following closely behind him.

The three Gryffindors sat down again, all managing to breathe a sigh of relief. "We're lucky you were there, Hermione," Ron commented as he reached for a piece of chicken. "Otherwise, Harry and Malfoy would have thrown hands, no doubt!"

"I don't believe Dumbledore would have appreciated an all-out duel in the midst of such a wonderful dinner," she murmured.

Harry and Ron both nodded in response, decidedly going back to their food and the lighthearted Potions class conversation. However, Hermione was no longer interested. Her eyes were still on the Slytherin Prince himself, who was sitting across the room with his friends without a care in the world.

...

...

Later on that evening, Hermione exhaustedly wandered into Gryffindor Tower, ready for a good night's sleep. She came upon several of her fellow housemates, including Neville Longbottom, Ginny Weasley, Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil, Seamus Finnigan, and Romilda Vane, along with Romilda's Ravenclaw boyfriend, Michael Corner. As Hermione collapsed into a velvet chair, Ginny stood up. "Hermione? Is it true that you told off Draco Malfoy at dinner?"

"I saw it with me own eyes!" Seamus exclaimed. "It was bloody brilliant! I reckon she's the first Gryffindor that sod has ever listened to."

Hermione shrugged. "All I did was stop Malfoy from getting into a fight with Harry," she replied. "Saved everyone a lot of trouble, I suppose."

"You must be something special, Granger," Neville said softly, with a dreamy look on his face.

The door to the common room opened, and Harry, Ron, and Dean wandered inside. "Alright, listen up, you lot!" Ron exclaimed. "Harry and I decided we're done putting up with rubbish from those foul gits in Slytherin, so we enlisted Fred and George to help us get them back."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Ron? What did you do?"

"Actually, it was Harry's idea," Ron explained. "And Dean wanted to help. So we went through a care package from the twins and found these!" He held up a handful of small, circular candies. Each one had a purple half and an orange half, and they looked fanatically delicious.

Romilda let out a laugh. "Puking Pastilles? That's genius!"

Dean smiled proudly. "We left the box outside the Slytherin common room. Convinced them that it was taffy. And I have to say, for Slytherins, they were a bunch of thick bastards," he said. "But I'm sure they're having a swell time now." He made a gagging sound at the back of his throat, which got a few laughs.

Hermione smiled, but inside she felt a bit guilty. Malfoy could be a stupid blighter sometimes, but there were also times when he wasn't so bad. She knew, in the back of her mind, that Harry and Ron would never be able to see it like she did. They'd never understand. "I'm going to retire."

As she stood up, Lavender let out an indignant squeak. "What's the matter, Granger? Don't you want to know more?"

"I think I've heard enough," Hermione replied coldly. She regarded her friends and deftly ascended up the stairs to the girls' dormitory without another word. The tired Gryffindor collapsed into her bed, not bothering to remove her uniform, and only kicking her shoes off instead. She couldn't help but worry about Draco and how he was faring, and fell into an extremely restless sleep.

**A/N-Sorry it was so short! This was supposed to be more of an introductory chapter, before everything goes down. I'm planning on six lengthy chapters after this one-a chapter per day in the story-so this will certainly be continued. Thanks for reading! **

**-BlackthornUnicorn98**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you so much for the reviews on Chapter 1! Here is part 1 of Chapter 2, since I didn't take into account how long each chapter actually was. So I'll be splitting the longer chapters into two parts. Also, as a side note, there will be some OOC-ness in some parts of this story, just as a warning. And as always, I do not own the characters in this story. But I actually DO own Hilda Pennythistle, the first of my original characters who shows up in this story. Happy reading!**

**IS IT LOVE?: A DRAMIONE STORY**

**Chapter 2: Potions, Dementors, and Perfect Snogging**

**(Day 2, Part 1)**

"Hermione! Hermione, wake the hell up!"

"You're going to be late!"

The high-pitched shrieks of Lavender and Parvati roused Hermione from her dreamworld, which had consisted of elves, fire-breathing dragons, Transfiguration class, talking oranges, and one particular blonde-haired boy whom she would rather have not thought about at all. She opened her eyes, the light immediately irritating them, and saw Parvati standing over her. "What is it?" she groaned.

"Potions in ten minutes, Granger!" Lavender shouted from across the room, earning her an annoyed glare from Parvati.

Hermione's eyes opened wider. "Bugger. Professor Snape will kill me if I'm late," she moaned. "Alright, come off it, you two. Let me get my shoes." She hopped off her bed, noting that she was still clad in her clothes from the night before, but decided not to change out of them; there wasn't any time. She slipped her feet into her uniform shoes, threw on her robe, grabbed her schoolbag, and followed her roommates out the door of Gryffindor Tower and down the stairs.

They came upon Romilda in the common room, heatedly making out with Michael on the sofa. All three girls groaned in disgust at the sight, and raced off down the corridor as fast as they could. As they entered Professor Snape's dimly-lit, dungeon-like classroom, Hermione slumped down in a desk next to Parvati, both girls breathing a loud sigh of relief. Harry looked back at them and snickered, and Snape shot them a glare across the room. "Is there a problem, Miss Patil? Miss Granger?"

"No, Professor Snape!" both Gryffindors replied in unison, nervously glancing at one another. They were both quite afraid of Snape. Not as terrified as Neville, evidently, but they still felt increasingly nervous and fretful in his presence.

"Good," the professor drawled. "Now, today, we will be brewing a potion of epic proportions. It ejects steam when brewed properly, giving off a mother-of-pearl sheen on the surface, and it is rumored to smell differently for each person, given certain factors. Would anyone care to venture a guess as to what this potion might be?"

Hermione raised her hand, but as per the usual, Snape ignored her and called on Neville instead. "I don't know, Professor," he mumbled. "Uh...an Ageing Potion?"

"No," Snape said simply. Hermione saw Neville flinch in his seat, and raised her hand higher; Snape ignored her once again. "Mr. Goyle. What about you?"

Goyle thought for a moment. "A Draught of Living Death?" he tried. Snape again refused his answer, and after scanning the room for a moment, his eyes landed on Ron.

"Weasley. What say you?" Snape asked, narrowing his eyes.

Ron's face scrunched up; he was almost as afraid of Professor Snape as Neville was. "Uh...Polyjuice Potion, sir?"

Several students chuckled, and Snape crossed his arms. "Quite humorous indeed, Mr. Weasley. Very funny. Still mulling over the events of your second year, are you? Breaking how many school rules in the process? Nearly helped get your little sister killed as well, if I remember correctly."

Hermione froze. As Ron began to stutter, terrified of what Snape might do or say next, she spoke up to save her friend. "Please, sir. The potion that gives off that color is called Amortentia, the most powerful love potion in the world. It's rumored to smell differently to each person, according to what romantically attracts them. It's dangerous, but temporary. And it does not feed on...sexual urges. Only those of the emotional and physical sort."

Snape narrowed his eyes at her, no longer focused on Ron. "Miss Granger, shouldn't you know better by now than to speak unless called upon?" he growled. "Do you simply take pride in being a know-it-all, or are you just utterly unable to control your own actions? Five points from Gryffindor for speaking out of turn, and I suggest you hold your tongue unless you want to lose your House more points."

A couple of Gryffindors glared back at her, making Hermione want to crawl underneath her desk. However, both Ron and Harry glanced over at her with smiles on their faces. Parvati did the same, as well as Ravenclaw Terry Boot and Hufflepuff Justin Finch-Fletchley. Hermione regarded them all with a small smile, and rested her head on her desk as Snape began to drone on again. As her eyes wandered about the room, however, she noticed another student in particular who did not seem as happy with her outburst.

Draco Malfoy was staring at her with a hardened expression, his eyes cold and unforgiving. He seemed to see straight through her, as if she were a large, clear window, exposing all that ever was and was to be. Nothing about the look Draco was giving her was positive in the slightest...in fact, he looked as if he was ready to fly across the room and pummel her to the ground, just for answering a question that his best friend didn't know. She squirmed nervously in her seat and forced herself to look away from the Slytherin's penetrating gaze, instead focusing on Professor Snape's low, daunting voice.

"Every one of you is going to have the chance to brew a draught of Amortentia this morning," he was saying as he paced around the room. "Instructions are on your desktops. You will each get a partner, and no, you do not get to choose your own partners."

A collective groan emanated from the mouth of nearly every student in the room, and Seamus spoke up. "But Professor, what if we-"

"Silence, Mr. Finnigan," Snape snarled. "Unless you want to lose Gryffindor more points like your friend, Miss Granger." Seamus shut up, and the professor continued. "I have grouped you all in pairs, and you shall not be allowed to request a new partner. Broadening your horizons, in a sense. Now, here are your partner assignments."

Snape proceeded to read off a list of names out loud, and as he did so, people began to get up and move to their respective desks. Harry was unfortunately placed with the entirely too expressive Lavender Brown, much to the jealousy of her boyfriend Ron, who was partnered with Vincent Crabbe. Parvati was thrilled to be able to work with Daphne Greengrass, a Slytherin friend of hers, but she shot Hermione a sad glance as she got up to move. Seamus sat down next to Neville, while Dean was assigned to work alongside Ernie Macmillan, a Hufflepuff who was notorious for falling asleep in class, no matter what activities they were doing. Hermione sat in her chair, feeling extremely bored, when Snape read off her name. "And Hermione Granger, you will work with Draco Malfoy."

Hermione straightened up, shocked beyond all belief, and let out an audible groan. She glared over at Draco, who simply smirked her way and got up to move. Parvati, Harry, and Neville all shot her looks of pity and sympathy, and Hermione put her head down on her desk in despair. _This is not happening. Merlin's beard, this can't be happening._

She heard Draco set his things down on the desk and sit. "Oh, come now, Granger," he muttered. "Aren't you excited to work with the man of your dreams?"

"I'd rather fly a broom straight into the Whomping Willow," Hermione grumbled in response.

Draco chuckled maliciously. "Don't be so cynical, Granger," he replied. "And don't worry. I'm great at Potions. I'll help you. Potions has never been your strong suit, has it?"

"I don't need your help!" Hermione growled angrily through gritted teeth. "I can fend for myself just fine, Ferret."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "Look, Granger. All we have to do is get through one partner project, and that's it. Can your little Mudblood brain handle that? Or is it too much for you?"

Biting back a hateful response, Hermione instead shook her head and went to work, opting not to talk to the pathetic Slytherin arse if at all possible, and the two rivals worked in mostly silence for the next hour and a half.

By the time the class period was reaching its end, Hermione had become pretty proud of their potion. It was nearly the light blue color that Professor Snape had described, and she was just beginning to feel better about the situation when Neville piped up from behind her. "Professor? Is it supposed to be doing this?"

Harry, who was sitting directly in front of Hermione and Draco's desk, turned back. "What's it doing, Neville? Some sort of water dance?"

"It's bubbling," Neville murmured worriedly. Snape turned his attention to the desk in the back and began to saunter down the aisle when Neville and Seamus let out loud gasps. The two Gryffindors scrambled out of their chairs and away from the concoction as it continued to bubble before completely blowing up. Scattered screams and shrieks sounded from all around the room, and the cauldron expelled a wet, royal blue, plasma-like substance into the air. Students ducked for cover and most of them succeeded, but the gooey potion did end up completely coating the students seated at the tables closest to that of Neville and Seamus.

Hermione gasped as the Amortentia spilled all over her robes and onto her head. Lavender squealed, immediately attempting to wipe the slime-like substance from the front of her robe and the tops of her shoes. Draco let out an angry yelp, being unfortunate enough to get a jet of it shot straight into his face. And Harry groaned in frustration, trying to work it out of his hair with his bare hands. Snape rushed down the aisle to attend to the four students dripping in goo. "You all have been exposed to the love potion," he informed them. "Amortentia is generally consumed orally, but direct contact with the skin will produce the same effect. I will work at finding an antidote...for now, we must clean this mess up." He flicked his wand gently. "_Escourgio Instante._"

The potion immediately began to return to the cauldron, and before too long, the floor was spotless, the desks were cleared, and the students were cleaned up from head to toe. However, every person in the room began to notice that the victims of the explosion had started acting differently toward each other in the couple of minutes since it had exploded. Harry had tenderly brushed Lavender's light brown curls out of her face, taking hold of her hand and smiling sweetly at her in the process, which she returned. And Draco and Hermione were no longer giving each other glaring looks, but instead, loving, affectionate glances were exchanged. At the front of the class, Ron let out an indignant squawk, partly because of the odd looks that his best friend was giving Draco, and partially because Harry was one stroke away from fondling the redhead's girlfriend. Every student in the room began to whisper and point.

"Enough out of all of you!" Snape shouted. "Now, go on! Nothing else to see here!"

The class began to scatter in fear, and student after student sprinted out of the room. As Ron walked by, he contemplated approaching Harry, Hermione, and Lavender, but Dean Thomas pulled him by the arm before he could do anything rash. Snape caught Susan Bones before she left, and demanded that she summon Professor Minerva McGonagall, Madam Pomfrey, and the Headmaster at once. Susan took off running to find them, and Snape turned to deal with his lovestruck students. "How do you all feel?" he asked cautiously.

Lavender smiled dreamily. "Professor, have you ever noticed how beautiful Harry's eyes are?" she asked softly. "They're such a beautiful shade of green, like emeralds. And his hair, dark like a raven. Like the void. Oh, and I love the way his-"

"That'll be enough, Miss Brown," Snape said sternly, an edge of pain in his gruff voice. "Now, shall I reiterate my question? How do _you_ feel?"

"Like I'm floating on a cloud, Professor," murmured Harry, glancing dazedly at Lavender.

"It's true, sir," Hermione piped up. "I feel...peaceful. And it's all because of him." She gestured to Draco, who began to blush a deep pink color.

Snape rubbed his temples. "This is not real," he said. "None of this 'love' is real. You're all under the effects of a love potion. Do you all understand that?"

Draco shrugged. "It seems awfully real to me, Professor," he sighed. "Everything I never noticed about her before...I'm noticing it now, and I'm an idiot for being so blind before."

Hermione let out a slight giggle, and Snape smacked himself in the head. "Enough of this nonsense! We will find an antidote, wherever it may be and however far we must travel to get it. And that's final. You shall not stay as lovestruck children forever. No, certainly not."

"But Professor Snape, it's so wonderful!" Harry exclaimed, throwing his arm around Lavender's shoulders. "It's the greatest feeling in all the world! But I suppose you wouldn't understand. You've never been in love."

Snape said nothing as his eyes darkened considerably, and a deep scowl spread over his face.

Before anyone could say more, however, the doors to the Potions room opened, and Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Madam Pomfrey strode in. Snape turned away from the group of sixth years in relief, and he addressed his colleagues. "Professor Dumbledore. Madam Pomfrey. Minerva," he muttered. "Thank you all for coming."

"Severus, what's happened here?" McGonagall asked. "What is wrong with these students? And why is Mr. Malfoy caressing Miss Granger's cheek?"

"Malfoy, that's enough!" Snape shouted, startling the blonde-haired Slytherin. "Minerva, these four were the victims of an accident regarding a love potion. Mr. Finnigan apparently caused the concoction that he and Mr. Longbottom were working on to blow up, and Miss Granger, Miss Brown, Mr. Potter, and Mr. Malfoy were unlucky enough to be near the blast. As you can see, the potion has already taken effect."

"Clearly," Dumbledore murmured, turning to Madam Pomfrey. "Is there a cure? A remedy? An antidote, perhaps?"

The nurse shook her head. "No, Albus," she replied. "Nothing to do but let the effects of the potion wear off, I'm afraid."

"And how long should we expect the effects to linger?" Snape asked.

Madam Pomfrey thought for a moment. "Tell me. Was the potion done brewing, Severus? Or was Mr. Finnigan in the process of brewing it when it exploded?"

"Hard to say," Snape replied. "I wasn't exactly watching them closely. But I shall be sure to look into it, Poppy."

"Please do, Severus," Dumbledore said solemnly. "The last thing we need right now is the distraction of these youngsters' public affection in front of the rest of the students. We must take care of this at the earliest opportunity."

McGonagall nodded in agreement. "Yes. But for now, I suppose it's best to let the effects vanish on their own. Unless Severus finds a cure or an antidote in the very near future. Better leave them to their own absurd fantasies, I suppose. Thank you for informing us of the incident. We shall keep a close watch on the students until this problem is fixed." She shot an uncomfortable glance at Lavender, who was nuzzling Harry's shoulder.

"Thank you for your counsel," Snape muttered. He got nods from all of his colleagues, and turned to the students. "And as for you four. You are to go back to your respective dormitories _by yourselves_, and keep quiet until you are either summoned or you can confirm that you no longer feel the effects of the potion. Now, off with you all!"

Lavender squealed and scurried away, with Harry close behind. Draco followed slowly, with a grinning Hermione on his arm. As the students disappeared, Snape thought for a moment before slowly turning to Dumbledore. "Headmaster, I believe I may have a way to predict how long the effects of the potion will last. And if you will permit me a few hours, I will likely have an answer for you."

"Do what you must, Severus," Dumbledore replied. And he motioned McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey out of the room, leaving Snape to his own devices.

...

...

After Potions class, Harry and Lavender wandered back to Gryffindor Tower to chill for a while, while Draco and Hermione sauntered off to the Slytherin dungeons for some private time. Harry and Lavender's presence in the common room immediately angered Ron, and he stood up, ready to pull out his fists. "Oi, Harry. Lav. Come back for some alone time, have you?"

Lavender nodded cheekily, and a feral growl escaped Ron's throat.

Dean got to his feet. "Ron…" he warned. "Leave them alone. Remember, it's not real. It's just a potion."

"I know bloody well that it's not real!" Ron snapped. "But I'd be damned stupid if I just sat by and watched Harry messing around with _my_ girlfriend!" He shot daggers at his best friend, and his face turned bright red.

"Come on, Lav," Harry said softly, nudging her. "Let's go upstairs, where we can have some privacy." He took her by the hand and led her up toward the boys' dormitory with the intent of snuggling into his bed together. Dean had to forcibly hold back Ron, who angrily tried to go after Harry and punch his lights out.

...

...

Down in the dungeons, however, it was a completely different story. Draco and Hermione walked arm-in-arm the entire way there, acting like proper adults and barely breaking eye contact with one another. Once they arrived in the empty dungeons, however, Draco suddenly turned on Hermione like a feral animal, pinning her up against the stone wall and kissing her with everything that he had; every ounce of frustration and longing he'd been feeling, every deep want and need and selfish bit of reason which, at the moment, he couldn't even think about. She responded with equal enthusiasm, locking her arms around his neck and swirling her tongue around the inside of his mouth. He worked his hands roughly through her thick, curly mane, in turn causing dulcet, tortured moaning to slip from the throat of the befuddled Gryffindor, who was beginning to go weak in the knees.

As he pressed his strong body up against hers, easily trapping her against the wall, and she felt his desire rubbing up against her inner thigh, the door to the dungeon suddenly swung open with a loud slam. Blaise Zabini sauntered in and abruptly dropped the piece of pumpkin pie he was munching on. His mouth fell open in shock at the sight of his best friend and a Gryffindor prefect snogging each other senseless. After a moment, Blaise cleared his throat loudly, prompting Hermione to push Draco away. "You owe me another piece of pie, Malfoy," Blaise muttered.

Draco glanced at him sheepishly. "Anything to make sure this stays between us for right now," he replied.

Blaise nodded, and without another word, he turned on his heel and left the room. Draco and Hermione looked at one another and couldn't help but double over laughing at Blaise's stunned reaction. Neither of them could imagine what he was thinking at that very moment, but nevertheless, they decided not to dwell on it. As Hermione's laughs were reduced to soft chuckles, she looked up into Draco's grey eyes, the eyes that swirled with an air of mystery and longing she'd never noticed before. A ghost of a smile spread over his pale lips, and before she could do or say anything, he captured her lips in another swift, enrapturing kiss, and she matched his fervor with a ferocity that made her start to feel the slightest bit light-headed. The two were lost in a world entirely their own, and nothing was bound to pull them out of it anytime soon.

...

...

"I swear, Ron! It meant nothing! Honest!"

Harry sat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, pleading with Ron to forgive him and trying to assure the redhead that the potion's effects on him regarding his feelings for Lavender were temporary and fake. But Ron, being the stubborn arse he often had a tendency to be, refused to listen. "You were all over each other, Harry! I saw it with my own two eyes! And she's _my_ girlfriend! Honestly, Harry, how do you expect me to feel?"

"It wasn't my fault, you know!" Harry retorted. "Seamus was the one who blew up the potion in the first place. Lavender and I just happened to be caught in the crossfire. Just like Hermione and Malfoy."

Ron crossed his arms over his chest. "Do you know how hard it is to see the girl you love drooling over another guy without any regard for your feelings?!" he demanded, crossing his arms stubbornly over his chest. "I think not!"

"On the contrary!" Harry exclaimed. "G-the girl I like was all over one of the other boys in our year recently! To my knowledge, she still is!" He mentally scolded himself for almost revealing to Ron that he had it bad for Ron's younger sister, Ginny Weasley.

Ron rolled his eyes, and noticed Lavender heading his way. "Oh, bloody hell, here we go," he grumbled. She sat down next to him and took his arm.

"Ron? Do...do you forgive me?" she asked meekly. "I didn't know what I was doing. Or what I was feeling. But whatever it was, it wasn't real. You're the one I want to be with, you know?"

Ron hesitantly looked into his girlfriend's eyes, and something about the way that she was imploringly staring at him managed to convince him that she was telling the truth. "Alright, Lav. I forgive you," he said softly. She let out a squeal of delight, and clutched his arm. Ron subtly nodded to Harry, who took a handful of rice cakes and shoved them into his mouth without another word.

From the other side of the Great Hall, McGonagall smiled. "Albus, look," she murmured. "The potion has worn off. Rather quickly, I might add. Miss Brown is clearly no longer infatuated with our young Mr. Potter. Do you see?"

"Ah, yes, I do see, Minerva," Dumbledore replied. "Could have gotten quite a bit uglier between Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter, had the effects of the potion not vanished when they did. I simply cannot imagine a lack of companionship between those two boys, no matter how much mischief they cause together." McGonagall nodded in agreement.

"So, how are you, Harry?" Neville asked from the table. "Feeling any better?"

"Loads better," replied Harry through a mouthful of cakes. Truth be told, he did miss the peaceful sensation that the love potion had encompassed him with, but of course he wasn't about to make that known to Ron. "I'm glad it finally wore off. Now we can all go back to our usual routines."

A look of what seemed like fear spread over Ginny's face as Harry said those words. "Harry," she murmured, "what if you didn't? What if you were still infatuated with Lavender, hanging on her every word, and strolling toward your classmates happily in love?"

Harry scoffed. "Ginny, what an absurd notion," he remarked. "What could have possibly possessed you to say such a thing?"

Ginny said nothing, and instead looked off into the distance. Her peers followed her gaze, and were utterly shocked by what they saw.

First, there was the smiling face of a certain Slytherin boy. The joyous expression he wore was quite unusual, but so powerful that it might have even had an effect on the table of Gryffindors, if it wasn't in fact _Draco Malfoy._ He seemed to be genuinely laughing at something, purely out of humor, instead of his usual ridicule that they were all used to. And there was a girl hanging on his arm, laughing right along with him.

A familiar, brown-eyed, curly-haired girl with a Gryffindor scarf fastened sloppily around her neck.

"Bloody hell," Ron whispered, dropping the piece of chicken in his hand.

"Harry, I thought you said the potion had already worn off," Seamus murmured.

Harry regarded both of his classmates, not once bothering to take his eyes off the pair. "It did."

Hermione looked as ecstatic as Draco did, much to the horror of her friends. It immediately became clear to them that the potion had _not_ worn off of those two yet, but even being so, they all thought it was extremely odd. Why had Harry and Lavender's symptoms subsided into nothing within a couple of hours, while Draco and Hermione's had not? It didn't make any sense.

The giggling pair approached the table, much to the disdain of everyone nearby. "I'll see you later," Hermione was saying to Draco. He winked flirtatiously in her direction, and eventually slipped away to rejoin his friends at the Slytherin table.

As Hermione sat down next to Harry, Ron immediately began to bombard her with questions. "Bloody hell, Hermione! What was that all about? Did you guys...do something? In private? What's going on with the two of you? Has the potion even worn off yet? Harry and Lavender's wore off already, and it was sodding lucky it did, or else I would have-"

Ginny clamped a hand over her brother's mouth, effectively silencing him, and turned to Hermione. "What Ronald _means_ to say is...well, what was that about? Is the love potion still in effect?" she asked carefully.

Hermione nodded. "It is, and I wouldn't have it any other way," she said softly. "I just...there are so many things about him that I've never noticed before, and I feel as if I'm in some sort of dream or something."

"That's the effects of the potion talking, Hermione," Harry reminded her. "I felt the same way. But I don't understand. Why hasn't your potion worn off yet?"

"Could it be some sort of trick?" Dean piped up. "Maybe Malfoy jinxed it or something."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "How could Malfoy have known what was going to happen?" she asked. "He's smart, sure, but he's not _that_ smart, to predict something like that happening."

"It was Seamus' fault," Lavender added. "Is it really that hard to predict that he would blow up a potion?"

"Shove off," grumbled Seamus.

"Enough, both of you," Harry ordered. He glanced at Hermione, who wore a bright smile on her face and a twinkle in her eye. "As much as I enjoy seeing her this happy, we have to bring this back to Professor Snape. He's the most qualified in the area of Potions, and he's the one who will be able to set her right."

He got nods from his classmates, and they opted not to discuss the matter until their meal was over. Hermione, however, didn't even bother looking at the food in front of her. She kept staring over at Draco, obviously wishing she could go and sit beside him. Alas, she could not, and continued to bat her eyelashes and shoot him flirty smiles instead. Her friends stole a few sneaky glances at the Slytherin table, and found that Draco was reciprocating equally. He even blew a kiss in her direction a couple of times, causing Hermione to swoon, Harry to wrinkle his nose, and Ron to nearly puke up his lunch.

"I'll kick his ass to Bulgaria, if I have to," the redhead snarled. "Or maybe France. Point is, I just want him to leave Hermione alone!"

Harry nodded. "We have to go talk to Snape. I don't think this can wait much longer. This is wrong...and unnatural."

"I agree," Lavender murmured. "Let's visit him in his office after lunch. In the meantime, Hermione, you need to eat."

Hermione rolled her eyes, but reluctantly turned away from Draco and slipped a spoonful of treacle tart into her mouth. Her tablemates couldn't help but sneak peeks at her, wondering what in the name of Merlin was going on inside her head.

...

...

Severus Snape sat alone in his office, flipping through various Potions books and searching every piece of parchment in sight. He was quite determined to find a solution to the love potion dilemma before the evening came. He desired normalcy again.

"Let's see here," he drawled softly, opening a small, tattered book and beginning to read aloud to himself. "_Amortentia, the most powerful love potion known to the wizarding world, causes an extremely powerful infatuation, fixation, or obsession, as the creation of real love by a human would be effects of Amortentia only last as long the user continues to consume or come into contact with the potion. A single drink or touch from a fully brewed draught of Amortentia can take effect for as long as a couple of weeks, while a drink or touch from a draught that is weakly or not completely brewed can last as little as two or three hours. The brewer will be able to tell how close the potion is to completion by the shade of blue it gives off; if the liquid's hue is more pale, the potion is done; if the hue is darker, the potion is extremely weak and will only be rendered useful for no more than two or three hours."_

Snape raised an eyebrow. Now that he thought about it, the potion that had blown up was much darker than it should have been; neither of the two Gryffindors involved were particular adept when it came to potion-making. And on any other occasion, Snape might have been a lot more harsh on them for failing to produce an acceptable draught of Amortentia, but this was a special case. The potion was most definitely a weak one, which meant that the respective infatuation between Harry, Lavender, Hermione and Draco would have well worn off by now. In that moment, he couldn't have been more thankful that Seamus and Neville's potion was a complete failure.

"The Headmaster will surely be happy to hear this," he murmured to himself. As he began to put his books away, the door to his office opened, much to his surprise. He spotted Harry Potter, Ginny and Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and Lavender Brown. They all wore extremely worried looks on their faces as they approached his desk. "Hello, Gryffindors. What brings you all here to my humble corner of the castle?" he asked drolly.

Naturally, Harry spoke first. "Good afternoon, Professor Snape. We have an important matter to discuss with you."

"And what matter might that be, Mr. Potter?" Snape demanded sharply, making Harry twitch.

Lavender stepped forward. "Professor, we wanted to ask you about the love potion," she said slowly. "Something has gone awfully wrong."

"You don't look the slightest bits out of sorts, Miss Brown," the greasy-haired Potions Master replied. "Back to your normal self, I can see. No longer hanging on Mr. Potter's every move."

He earned a glare from Ron, who stepped up and spoke to his teacher in an irritated tone. "But Professor, that _is_ the issue. The potion affecting Harry and Lav has worn off, but...the potion affecting Hermione and Malfoy has not. We all saw them together at lunch." He got nods from his fellow classmates.

Snape couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Rubbish," he replied. "Utter rubbish. Perhaps you're misinterpreting their actions."

"With all due respect, Professor, it's quite hard to misinterpret," Ginny piped up. "They went off to do who-knows-what in the dungeons, and came to lunch laughing together, holding hands, and flirting from afar when they were separated. It was a bit uncomfortable to witness, actually."

"I don't believe you are hearing what I'm saying, young ones," Snape muttered. "The potion is _no longer_ in effect. Mr. Longbottom and Mr. Finnigan's potion was one of the weakest I've ever seen. Truly not a surprise."

Neville went red in the face, lost for words, and Lavender came to his aid. "That only means that it shouldn't be as effective, does it not? Why, then, does it still have hold of our Hermione and that Slytherin boy, while Harry and I have both gone back to normal?"

Snape thought for a moment; what she was saying did actually make a fair bit of sense. "You make an excellent point, Miss Brown. Give me a moment here." He reached for a stack of papers, and as his fingers swiftly flipped through them, an idea popped into his head. His mind started swimming with a plan; he could make these students believe anything he wanted them to believe, as long as he chose his next words extremely carefully.

"Ah, here it is," said Snape, attempting to hide the excitement in his voice. "Miss Brown, the reason that the potion affected yourself and Mr. Potter differently than your classmates is because you are a full-blooded witch, and Mr. Potter is a half-blood wizard. The difference in the amount of magical blood running in your veins is a factor to determine, especially with a potion that is quite weak."

"But, sir, I don't exactly understand," Harry replied. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Snape gathered his thoughts. "You both possess some amount of magical blood," he replied. "You both come from a line of wizards or witches. Our Mr. Malfoy does as well...in fact, he is a pure-blooded wizard, like many of his classmates in Slytherin. But Miss Granger possesses no magical blood whatsoever; it is likely that she is descended from a Squib, and the magical knowledge in her family was lost overtime. But regardless, there is a much larger 'gap', for lack of a better term, in the quantity of magical blood in their veins, and that is why the potion affects them differently than you and Miss Brown."

"So how long will they be like this?" Neville asked meekly.

"I cannot yet say, Mr. Longbottom," Snape replied. "There is no antidote as of now, so the best solution at this point is to let the potion run its course."

"I won't be able to stand seeing that horrid, wretched bleeder hanging all over my best friend like that for much longer!" Ron groaned. "It's truly an awful sight to see!"

"Silence, Mr. Weasley!" Snape snapped loudly. Neville visibly flinched, and Ginny gave Ron a hard punch on the arm. "The situation is, for the moment, out of my control, and you would do well to remember that. Now, off you all go. I have work to do, and I'm sure you have classes to be attending or homework to complete."

Though Ron badly wanted to protest, Lavender took his arm and led him away before he could say anything rash. Harry, Ginny, and Neville followed them out of the Potions room, distressed by Snape's indefinite news about the potion.

And Severus Snape watched them leave, a rare, mischievous smile on his pale face.

...

...

Hermione walked alone down the corridor, feeling pleasantly full and satisfied from her meal. The air had cooled significantly, chilling her down to the bone, and she couldn't help but predict that the first winter snow was well on the way. Hermione had always loved the snow, unlike some of her friends; she remembered going out into the snow with her mother and father when she was young, before she knew she was a witch, and accidentally making a snowman that her father had sculpted come alive. Her parents were terrified, but Hermione was extremely amused and had named the snowman 'Fabio' without a second thought.

Simpler times, indeed.

Smiling at the memory, she continued her walk down the cold corridor, hurrying to get back to Gryffindor Tower, when she felt a hand clasp her shoulder. "And where are you off to in such a rush?"

Hermione turned to find Draco Malfoy, who wore a sly grin across his lips. "I'm going back to the common room," she replied. "Harry and Ron told me to meet them there after they attended to something important."

Draco rolled his eyes. "But what fun is that, Granger?" he questioned. "Besides, I have a much better idea."

"And what idea would that be, Ferret?" she asked, her eyes twinkling.

"Can't tell you, darling," he replied as he took her hand. "Now, come on! You'll have plenty of time later to chat with Potter and Weasel-bee." And with that, he took off running, hauling Hermione behind him. She giggled and shrieked as she stumbled after him, and her cheeks began to turn pink from the cold.

Before long, they slowed to a brisk walk, and the castle was long left behind. Hermione looped her arm through Draco's, inadvertently making them both blush a deep shade of magenta. They finally arrived in Hogsmeade, the small village not far away from the grounds of Hogwarts, and Draco led Hermione into the local pub, The Three Broomsticks. "Does a date sound good to you, milady?" he asked, humorously giving her a slight bow.

She smirked. "It's wonderful."

He held the door open for her, and they entered the pub. There was hardly a single soul present, other than a couple of unidentifiable people in the back corner. Hermione chose a table and sat down, ordering a Butterbeer with ginger. Draco ordered himself a Butterbeer as well, and placed his hand on top of Hermione's. "So, how has your day gone so far, Granger?"

She shrugged. "Alright, I suppose. But Harry and Ronald have been acting quite strangely toward me, as of late. I don't really understand what's going on, but it worries me to a point."

"Could it be because of me?" Draco asked. "What happened between us with the love potion?"

"Possibly," Hermione replied. She knew that her friends didn't approve of Draco as a human being, much less her lover, boyfriend, or whatever the hell they were. Of course, it wasn't her fault. It was all because of the love potion, and she knew that it would wear off eventually. "But they're both so stubborn and hardheaded, they'll get over it. Can we talk about something else?"

Draco nodded. "I actually have a matter myself that's been worrying me," he admitted.

"You can tell me anything," replied Hermione.

"I know," Draco murmured, his entire demeanor changing. "I've just...well, I've heard rumors, Granger. A lot of them."

"What sort of rumors, Draco?"

"Bad ones."

"You'll have to be more specific."

"Really bad ones."

"That's not being specific."

Draco sighed. "It's about Azkaban. Particularly, the guards."

Hermione's face went white. "You can't mean...the _Dementors_ of Azkaban?" she asked.

Draco nodded solemnly. "The word is that they're angry. Angry that the Death Eaters who were imprisoned managed to escape them. My mother wrote me not long ago to tell me that the Ministry has lost control of them, and they're now trying to hunt down every last Death Eater that defied them. To punish them severely with a fate worse than death. I don't know what that could be, but it's not exactly a comforting thought."

"The Dementor's Kiss. That has to be it," Hermione said, almost in a whisper. She looked like she was going to be sick.

Draco straightened up as she gripped his hand. "What's the Dementor's Kiss?" he asked.

Hermione took a deep breath. "It's an act that Dementors perform on someone that they've been hunting," she explained. "They get ahold of their victim and suck out their entire soul, feeding on every good, happy memory that the person holds inside of them. Unless the Dementor is repelled by a spell, the soul is completely consumed, and the body is left as an empty shell in a vegetative state, unable to move. They're not exactly dead, but as close to it as they can get, really. And there's no way to bring that soul back into the mortal world."

Draco's throat felt dry. "And, uh...what exactly happens to the soul once it leaves their body?" he asked carefully.

"It stays trapped within the body of the Dementor forever," Hermione replied. "In a state of constant torture and torment."

Draco gulped. The mere thought of his mother and father's souls being viciously ripped from their bodies and trapped within the dark creatures for eternity truly did seem like a fate worse than death itself. The idea alone made Draco's skin crawl. "That's...that's awful. I can't let that happen to my parents. There has to be a way to stop them."

Hermione shrugged. "Don't you remember what Dumbledore said a few years ago, back when the Dementors were hunting down Sirius Black?" she asked.

Draco shook his head.

"The Dementors don't distinguish between the one that they hunt and the one who gets in their way," Hermione continued. "That's what he said. Meaning that if you were to interfere, they would attack you without question. Even though you're not what they're after."

"I suppose you're right," Draco mumbled in defeat. "But there must be-"

"Two Butterbeers for the lovely couple!" came a shrill voice. Draco winced, and Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of Hilda Pennythistle, the plump old witch who had taken their order. "Enjoy, my lovelies!" She flounced away, earning her a glare from Madam Rosmerta, the owner of the pub.

"She seems...cheerful," Hermione grumbled, taking a sip of her Butterbeer.

Draco grinned. "Indeed. Oh, you've got a little something on your-"

He motioned to his mouth, and Hermione flushed with embarrassment. "Oh, sorry, I'll just…"

Her hands went straight for the napkin, but Draco was faster. "No, Granger. Allow me." Hermione allowed herself to freeze in place as Draco brought the napkin to her lips and gently wiped the foam of the Butterbeer away. Her cheeks blazed with heat; Draco had to admit that he found it unbelievably cute. He set the napkin down and smirked. "There you go."

Hermione awkwardly cleared her throat. "Uh, thanks...anyway, you were saying?"

"Oh, right," he said sheepishly. "There must be a way to fight them. I'm sure people had to have done it before...right?"

"There is a way to fight them," she replied. "But it's complicated. Very advanced magic."

"Have you ever done it?" Draco asked. "Could you teach me?"

Hermione shrugged. "I've done it, yes. But Defense Against the Dark Arts has never been my, shall we say, area of expertise," she admitted. "Maybe ask Harry, though. He's the one who taught me how to do it last year. Or Professor Dumbledore could show you. I've never actually seen him conjure it before, but I'm sure he knows how-"

"I'd rather ask someone I trust more than Dumbledore or Potter," Draco muttered icily. "And what were you saying about...conjuring? Conjuring what?"

"A Patronus," replied Hermione. "That's what the spell is called: the Patronus Charm. It acts as a sort of shield for the witch or wizard who can manage to conjure one, and protects them from the Dementor trying to feed on their soul."

Draco was shocked. "Why have they never taught us this before?" he asked incredulously. "And how does Potter know it?"

"Long story," Hermione mumbled. "Professor Lupin taught it to him in our third year. I saw him conjure the Patronus myself. He saved...Sirius Black's life, before he disappeared." She opted not to mention the entire situation with the Time Turner.

"Potter the overachiever," Draco groaned. "Of course. Well, if he can learn it, I can too. How does it work?"

"It's based on a memory," Hermione replied. "One that's extremely powerful in some way."

Draco nodded. "I see."

"Don't get your hopes up, though," she warned. "It's one of the most advanced spells that any witch or wizard can perform. And it drains you emotionally, physically, spiritually even. Harry didn't even get it on the first try. None of us did."

"But I have to try," Draco murmured. "I have to be able to defend my parents."

Hermione squeezed his hand. "I believe in you, Draco," she said kindly.

Draco smiled her way, and the two sat in silence for a while longer, sipping their Butterbeers in peace. They became mildly amused when Hilda started hollering at Madam Rosmerta and jabbing her with a broom for critiquing her recipe for mulled mead, and Rosmerta responded by throwing a chair at her co-worker and stomping off toward Gladrags Wizardwear, screaming about finding some enchanted socks. Hermione had seen them before; Fred had bought some for his mother for Christmas a few years back, and when they started screaming at her and nearly gave her a heart attack, she rewarded him with gnome duty for the following summer. Neither the blonde-haired wizard nor the curly-haired witch wanted to be there when the fight came to a head, but the thought made them both smile nevertheless.

As soon as they finished their drinks, Draco politely ushered Hermione out of the pub and they left arm-in-arm, much to the shock of the two Ravenclaws that they hadn't noticed sitting in the corner. Luna Lovegood was extremely caught off guard, before turning giddy with happiness and mentally planning their wedding. Cho Chang, on the other hand, was extremely confused; she had always assumed that Hermione had feelings for Harry, so to see her with a Slytherin, a Malfoy of all people, was shocking beyond all measure.

**A/N: GASP. This chapter was long. I've also discovered that I don't know how to write love/intimate/sensual scenes, so I apologize if it was cringy to read. Again, please feel free to review/shoot me a pm. I love responding to your reviews and messages, answering questions and the like. Part 2 will be coming soon!**

**-BlackthornUnicorn98**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello, lovelies! Second part of the second chapter is now up, and I really, really hope that you all enjoy it! Like I've said before, there WILL be some OCC-ness in this story, just for the sake of the plot (I'm particularly talking about Ron, as well as a few others), but I hope you like it anyways. There's another original character in this update, Misty, but once again, I do not own any of the other characters.**

**IS IT LOVE?: A DRAMIONE STORY**

**Chapter 3: Creatures, Promises, and Gryffindor Gossip**

**(Day 2, Part 2)**

"Bloody hell, Harry, if she and Malfoy are snogging somewhere, I'm going to beat myself silly with my own wand."

"Ron, shut up. We'll find her."

"We told her to meet us in the common room! And she didn't. What do you suppose she's up to?"

"Who knows? Maybe she and Malfoy got _distracted_ somewh-"

"Gross, Harry!"

Harry sniggered. "Oh, come off it," he groaned. "I'm sure she just went to class or something. You know how anal Hermione gets about having to miss class."

"Well sure, but under the effects of a _love potion_-"

"I don't want to think about that," grumbled Harry, kicking at the leg of the couch. "I don't want to think about this whole love potion issue anymore. It's uncomfortable and weird, and I really don't like the idea of those two being together. But we have to trust what Professor Snape said."

"Trust _Snape?_" Ron exclaimed. "Harry, have you lost your mind? How do we know that he's not playing us? I wouldn't put it past him, honestly."

"I don't like it either," Harry said glumly. "But who else could we have turned to?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe...Professor Dumbledore?"

Harry shrugged. "We have to trust that Snape knows what he's doing. He wouldn't do anything risky with Dumbledore around. And McGonagall would kick his greasy arse if he did anything to hurt Hermione _or_ Malfoy. You know that."

"I suppose," Ron said gruffly. "Oh, speak of the sodding devil."

Harry followed Ron's gaze and found Draco and Hermione, arm-in-arm with one another. Hermione's cheeks were bright pink from the cold, and she was smiling one of the biggest smiles they'd ever seen on her face before. She looked truly, genuinely happy, and Harry's heart began to hurt, knowing that it was all fake and would wear off eventually.

Ron, however, was not feeling so sensitive. "Hermione! Where have you been?!" he shouted angrily. "We were going to meet up with you in the common room, remember?"

"Apologies, Ron," she said sheepishly. "Draco kidnapped me."

"Malfoy?!" Ron roared.

"She doesn't literally mean 'kidnap', Ron," Harry whispered. "It's a figure of speech. Where were you guys anyway?"

Draco snootily placed his hands on his hips. "Hogsmeade, Potter," he replied. "Having fun."

"I see," Harry murmured.

"What kinds of _fun?_"

"Oh please, Ronald, come off it!"

"Don't tell me what to do, Hermione!"

"Leave Granger alone, you disgusting blood traitor!"

"Draco, let him be!"

"Yeah, Malfoy, let me be!"

"I dare you to say that again, Weasel-bee!"

"All of you, shut the hell up!"

All eyes turned to look at Harry, whose face was twisted with fury.

"Alright," he growled. "The point is, Hermione's back, and we need her to come with us. It's urgent. She'll see you later on, Malfoy, alright?"

Draco wanted to argue, but opted to hold his tongue instead. "Fine, Potter. But only because you asked nicely." He turned to Hermione, slipping off his green-and-white scarf and tying it loosely around her neck. "Here, you take this. It's chilly outside, and I don't want you to get yourself sick."

Hermione ran her fingers over the soft material. "It's so warm. Thank you," she murmured.

"Not at all. I'll see you later, love. Make sure these two morons don't get into trouble, yeah?" He winked cheekily at her.

She squeezed his hand and chuckled lightly. "Of course, Draco. Goodbye for now." She stood up on her tiptoes and planted a soft, tender kiss on Draco's lips, an action that made Ron turn away in disgust. Draco smiled and turned to go, striding down the length of the corridor and eventually disappearing from sight. Hermione turned back to Ron. "Would it kill you to be civil to him, Ronald?" she demanded.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, it would," Ron retorted.

Hermione let out a huff of indignation, and Harry spoke up. "Cut it out, you guys. We have to go. Now." He motioned for Hermione to follow him and shoved Ron through one of the windows and onto the grounds.

As they walked, Hermione began to shiver, pulling the scarf tighter around her neck. "Harry? Where exactly are we going?" she asked. "Is it completely necessary to do whatever it is we're doing?"

"Yes, Hermione," he replied. "Hagrid said it was urgent."

Sure enough, the gamekeeper's hut soon came into view, and the three sixth-years took off running to escape the stinging chill of the wind. Ron knocked on the door of Rubeus Hagrid's tiny hut, and not five seconds later, the giant of a man opened the door. "Oi! Hello, Harry, Ron, Hermione. Was wondering when I'd hear from you lot."

"Sorry about that, Hagrid," Ron replied. "One of us took a bit longer than expected." He shot an angry glance at Hermione, who bounced an icy glare right back at him.

"Knock it off, you two," Harry groaned. "Hagrid, what did you need us for?"

"Oh, right. Come with me, you three," he instructed. The half-giant rumbled down the steps of his house with a mysterious bag in his right hand. He ambled off toward the Forbidden Forest, and Ron sent Harry a terrified glance.

"He's got to be kidding us, hasn't he?" the redhead moaned. "Every time we go into the Forbidden Forest, disaster strikes in one form or another."

"Hagrid will keep us safe," Harry replied, but his voice was noticeably shaking.

"Right, Harry. Do you not remember what happened our first year?" Ron demanded. "You-Know-Who almost killed you in the Forbidden Forest! And Hagrid was the one who brought us there in the first place!"

"_Voldemort_ has been gone for two years, Ron," Hermione informed him. "There's nothing to worry about. Now hurry up, or Hagrid will leave us all behind." She nudged Harry and Ron forward, and the three began to follow the gamekeeper into the dense, dark forest.

The group trudged along, becoming colder and more uncomfortable with every minute that passed. The forest seemed to grow darker the further in they ventured, and uneasiness began to set in amongst the trio of young students. After what seemed like miles of trekking, Harry finally spoke up. "Hagrid! Where are we going? Can't you tell us?"

"No need for that now, Harry," Hagrid replied from ahead. "We're already here."

The giant stepped aside to reveal a small alcove beneath the trunk of a large willow tree. It was about a yard tall and a couple of feet wide, covered in sticks, twigs, and grasses. It was shadowed, so none of them could see what was inside. "Hagrid?" Ron squeaked. "Exactly what's in there?"

"Something very secret," replied Hagrid. "Now, you can't tell anyone, do you understand? Not even Professor Dumbledore. Not even Professor McGonagall. This has to stay between the four of us, or she has to go away, you hear?"

"We won't tell anyone, Hagrid," Hermione said.

"We promise," Harry added.

Hagrid sighed. "Alright, you all. Come on out, Misty. Don't be shy." He pulled an apple out of his bag and waved it around in front of the little cave to coax the creature out. "Come on, girl."

A twig snapped, and out of the tiny cave tumbled an even tinier grey animal. She was covered in pale feathers, with back hooves like those of a horse, front claws identical to an eagle's, and a beak of a similar dark grey color. The creature's wings fluttered and twitched as she scrambled to her feet and plucked the apple from Hagrid's hand, munching contentedly on it. Her eyes were a beautiful shade of dark blue, like a pair of sapphires.

Hermione's hand flew to her mouth, Ron's eyes widened, and Harry's jaw dropped. "Hagrid!" he exclaimed. "Is that...a baby hippogriff?"

"It is, Harry," Hagrid replied. "I call her Misty. Not much more than a week old, this tiny little thing."

"How did you find her?" Hermione asked. "Where is her mother?"

"She don't have a mother, Hermione," Hagrid answered. "Abandoned, she is. Left here by her family as a wee egg. I found her a couple days back. She hadn't eaten, and I fed her. Guess she's become attached. But I can't come back and feed her every day, you know? Dumbledore's tripled my load, and now I barely have time to myself, let alone time to spend here with her."

Hermione stepped forward. "We can help you take care of her, Hagrid. If you want."

"See, that's what I was going to ask of you three," he replied, almost guiltily. "I know you all are busy, what with your schoolwork and everything. And I know it's a lot to ask."

"We'll help," Ron said, his spirits seemingly lifted. "But why do you have to hide her here? Why can't she stay on the grounds with you?"

Hagrid tossed another apple to the baby hippogriff. "See, Ron, after that fiasco the Ministry had with Buckbeak and that Malfoy boy a few years ago, they've passed a law that prohibits hippogriffs from being domesticated. We can't keep them as pets no more. Kill 'em straight, the Ministry would, if they found out. I just couldn't stand to see this little one die of starvation, and I'd hate to see her take the axe if they found her on my property. Ain't no other place better to hide her."

"We'll take care of her, Hagrid," Harry said kindly. "As much as we can."

Hagrid grinned. "I appreciate that, Harry. Very much. Besides, it seems to me that you have a particular knack with hippogriffs, aye?"

"I suppose," Harry murmured. "But maybe not this one."

He gestured to his right, and all eyes fell on Hermione. She was crouched on the rocky floor of the forest with her hand out, and Misty was nipping at her fingers and nuzzling her arm. The creature cooed affectionately, and Hagrid smiled. "My, Hermione. You have a real knack with them too!"

"I think she likes you," Ron added, a small smile on his face.

Hermione simply grinned, petting the small creature and ruffling its feathers.

Hagrid stood for a moment, watching the precious hippogriff interacting with Hermione, before clearing his throat. "Right, then. You all had best be off now. It's nearly nightfall, and you don't want to be caught outside the castle after dark. You know where she's at, and you can visit her anytime."

"We'll take you up on that, Hagrid," Harry assured him. "Come on, Hermione."

She pouted for a moment, clearly not wanting to leave, before stroking Misty's head one last time and rising to her feet. She gave the baby hippogriff a parting glance as she walked away, following Ron and Harry down the path they had taken to get into the Forbidden Forest. Hagrid waved goodbye, and they disappeared from sight, hurrying back to the castle as quickly as their legs would carry them.

...

...

Draco walked briskly through the castle, becoming more frustrated with every step he took. Since he and Hermione had parted, he had been searching out Professor Snape, the one person he trusted to answer his questions about the Patronus Charm. Thus far, his search had been unsuccessful, and it wasn't improving his mood by any means.

As he walked, the sight of Professor McGonagall heading off in the opposite direction caught his eye. "Wait! Professor!"

McGonagall turned around, and her stern gaze fell on him. "Oh, hello, Mr. Malfoy. How can I be of assistance to you?"

Draco approached her, trying to ignore how secretly terrified of McGonagall he was. "Well, I...I was just wondering if you'd seen Professor Snape recently," he stammered. "I need to ask him a few questions."

The old woman nodded. "Last I heard, Professor Snape was reorganizing his personal store," she replied. "If you hurry, you might catch him before he goes to the Great Hall for the feast."

"Thanks, Professor," Draco mumbled distractedly. He took off running in the direction of Snape's personal store, not far away from his office. At long last, Draco came upon his professor, carrying a large basket of curious-looking elixirs into what anyone else might have mistaken as a common broom closet. "Professor Snape?"

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy?" Snape responded, not bothering to turn around.

"I have a couple of questions for you, if you don't mind," Draco mumbled, trying to hide his uneasiness.

Snape continued to discard his basket onto various shelves, climbing a step ladder as he did so. "Yes. And what would those questions be?" he replied monotonously.

Draco cleared his throat. "I was wondering if you could tell me about the Patronus Charm."

Snape froze where he stood, nearly dropping a tiny vial of clear liquid that Draco recognized as Veritaserum. "Mr. Malfoy, how do you know about the Patronus Charm?" he asked slowly.

"Granger mentioned it to me," Draco admitted. "She was taught how to conjure one. She's seen Potter do it, too."

Snape climbed down from the ladder to look Draco in the face. "Miss Granger is a bright witch, Mr. Malfoy, that much has always been clear to me. And Mr. Potter has been put through hell and back in his lifetime, requiring him to learn more advanced forms of magic to defend himself and those who are closest to him. But there is no more need to protect ourselves from the forces of the Dark Lord. And there are certainly no reasons why you should need to learn the Patronus Charm. It is specifically used to repel Dementors, and they are not to be found around these parts."

"Professor, you don't understand," Draco groaned, becoming impatient. "My mother has informed me that the Dementors of Azkaban have broken free of the Ministry's control. They're after the Dark Lord's remaining Death Eaters, and I'm terrified that they're going to try and kill my parents. I have to know how to fight them. I can't lose my family. I'd have nothing."

Snape's blood ran cold. If what Draco was saying was true, then the Dementors would not only be going after the Malfoys...they would be coming after _him_ as well. Snape was a smart enough man to keep information like his position as a past Death Eater from people who didn't require it, and Draco was one of those people. He couldn't bear to admit that Draco was right, and instead opted to indulge Draco's request. "Mr. Malfoy, if you feel strongly enough about these..._suspicions_, then I shall agree teach you the Patronus Charm. I give you my word."

"You won't regret it, sir," Draco assured him.

"I must warn you that the Patronus Charm is not what you might call 'light'," Snape added. "It's extremely advanced. Only the witches and wizards with the strongest wills can possibly produce them."

Draco crossed his arms. "I am confident in my abilities, sir," he replied.

"Good," Snape said quietly. "Now, off you go. Dinner shall start soon, and you'll need all your strength for your training."

"Yes, Professor," Draco murmured. "Goodnight." And with that, Draco strode off.

...

...

The moment he entered the corridor, a huge smile appeared on his face before he could stop it. He couldn't believe that Snape had actually agreed to teach him one of the toughest charms known to wizardkind, and he couldn't have been more thrilled. An unfamiliar sense of excitement began to bubble up inside of him, and he practically sprinted all the way to the Great Hall. As he skidded to a stop at the large wooden doors, he spotted a beaming Hermione, sitting at the Gryffindor table. She was happily munching on what looked like a piece of pie, laughing and talking to her friends. Draco couldn't help but notice how utterly beautiful she looked, even without a splash of makeup on her face; even with her slightly messed-up hair. To him, she looked like nothing less than an angel.

Before he could hold himself back, Draco found himself peeking in over the threshold and motioning for her to come over to him. She eventually caught his eye, and without a moment's hesitation, the girl mumbled something to her friends and got up from the table. "Draco? What is it?" she asked, shyly approaching him.

He took her hand in his own. "I just wanted to tell you how beautiful and ravishing you look," he murmured. "And I'm sorry if that sounds cliche, but it couldn't be more true."

Hermione's cheeks turned a bright shade of crimson. "Well, you look pretty gorgeous yourself," she replied, dramatically batting her eyelashes at him.

He rolled his eyes. "Granger, you are simply impossible. But I'm sure that you get that all the time. Don't you?"

"Actually, yes," she replied. "And for your information, I take it as a compliment."

"As well you should," Draco snickered.

Hermione looked lovingly into his enigmatic eyes for a moment before turning to glance at her table. Harry and Ron were both shooting her looks, and she sighed. "I should get back," she mumbled apologetically. "Harry and Ron are going stir-crazy, no doubt. And if I don't stop him, Ron's going to eat all the chicken."

Draco chuckled. "Of course, milady. Maybe I'll see you later sometime?"

"If fate will permit it," she replied.

Draco brushed a lock of curly hair out of her eyes. "That's good enough for me." He placed a very gentle, almost teasing kiss on her lips before finally letting her head back to her table. Even from the doorway, he could still see the faint blush on her cheeks, and it made him melt inside.

As he joined his friends at the Slytherin table, during which he got a few sneaky, suggestive glances from Blaise, Minerva McGonagall stared back and forth between Hermione and Draco, attempting to gather her befuddled thoughts and process what had just happened. "What-How-how is this-Albus?"

Dumbledore turned away from a particularly gross-looking dessert. "Yes, Minerva?"

"Albus, did you see Mr. Malfoy and Miss Granger?" McGonagall asked urgently.

Dumbledore shook his head. "I'm afraid not, Professor."

"They are still acting affectionate towards one another!" McGonagall whispered, seeming utterly terrified. "What will we do?"

"Severus said there is no antidote, didn't he?" Dumbledore responded.

McGonagall nodded. "Most recently, yes. But I do not understand. Miss Brown and Mr. Potter are back to normal, as we observed earlier today. Why, then, are Miss Granger and Mr. Malfoy not?"

"'Tis a tricky thing, Minerva," Dumbledore said solemnly. "Potions as a whole are very tempermental concoctions."

"I know this," grumbled McGonagall, watching as Draco threw a flirty wink at Hermione.

At that moment, Professor Snape appeared through the nearby door and sat down next to McGonagall, immediately diving into a bowl of red bean soup. "Good evening, Minerva. Albus."

Dumbledore smiled cheerfully, but McGonagall's face hardened. "Severus, are you aware that the potion still has a hold over Mr. Malfoy and Miss Granger?"

"I am aware," Snape said simply.

"What of it, then?" she demanded. "Have you figured out a way to reverse the effects? Banish them completely? What do you even know about the effects of the potion? How long will they last?"

Snape slurped up a spoonful of soup. "The potion that Mr. Finnigan and Mr. Longbottom created was a particularly weak one," he explained. "Not capable of lasting much more than two or three hours."

"Why are those two still under the effects of the potion, then?" McGonagall asked. "It's been _more_ than two or three hours!"

"Miss Granger's friends approached me with the same question," he replied calmly. "I informed them that because of the difference in the magical blood of Mr. Malfoy and Miss Granger, who are respectively pure-blood and Muggle-born, they were affected differently than Mr. Potter and Miss Brown, who are _both_ descended from witches and wizards and possess magical blood."

McGonagall thought for a moment. "But, Severus...that makes no sense. Magical or Muggle blood has absolutely nothing to do with the effects that a love potion has on any person or pair of persons. It's only the level of completion that matters."

To her surprise, Snape smiled. "You are a clever witch, Minerva."

McGonagall gasped, finally understanding. "You _lied_ to your students?" she whispered. "Severus! I can't believe you would do such a thing!"

"Calm yourself, Minerva," Albus murmured. "I am sure that Severus had a good reason for doing so. Maybe an issue of the students' safety, perhaps?"

McGonagall turned expectantly to Snape, and he smiled sheepishly. "Not exactly, Albus."

This caught Dumbledore's attention, and he turned to look at Snape as well, waiting for an answer.

Snape continued. "Do not think me a simpleton, Professors. This idea...it came to me in the moment. I did come across the thought that the potion _should_ have well been gone before now, and I wonder...what if it is? What if it _is_ truly gone?"

"But how can that be?" McGonagall asked. "You have seen their interactions with one another. They are clearly still-"

"I did some research shortly before dinner," Snape interrupted. "And while it is humanly impossible for the potion Amortentia to create actual love, it can bring repressed feelings to light."

Dumbledore drummed his crooked fingers. "What exactly are you telling us, Severus?"

Snape loosely smiled again. "I'm saying...what if this potion has simply brought secret romantic feelings to the surface? Maybe they are feelings that Mr. Malfoy and Miss Granger didn't know they had, but true feelings still."

"And you decided not to tell them of your theory?" McGonagall questioned. "Do you..._want_ them to be together?"

Snape simply shrugged, but by the rare smile still evident upon his face, his answer was crystal clear.

"This is dangerous, Severus," Dumbledore warned. "Were something to go wrong, they would be your responsibility. You know that."

"I am well aware, sir," replied Snape.

"Then you need no further lecturing from me," Dumbledore murmured. With that, he went back to his food and fiddling with a loose gem on his golden goblet.

Meanwhile, McGonagall shot Snape a concerned look. "I don't think this is such a good plan," she muttered.

"Minerva?" Snape asked. "Were you not saying just last week that you've wanted a sense of House unity within this distinguished institution's grand halls for many years?"

"Yes, but-"

"And you would love to see the Houses of Gryffindor and Slytherin become allies who work together, rather than enemies who work against one another?"

"Well, yes, but-"

"And is this not the most perfect way to achieve that goal?"

"Severus, I'm warning you-"

Snape chuckled. "Oh, pish-posh, Minerva. Give it a chance. I've seen a side to Mr. Malfoy that I've never seen before...a rather pleasant one, too, I might add. Maybe you'll see the same sort of side to Miss Granger. A more emotional side, perhaps."

She still looked extremely conflicted. "Severus, I don't know."

"Good. Then it's settled." He went back to his soup as if nothing had happened, and McGonagall sat in her chair, dazedly wondering what she had just been roped into.

...

...

"Hermione! Hey!"

Hermione jumped at the sound of Parvati's voice as she entered the girls' dormitory. Her roommate was sitting cross-legged on her bed, with what looked like her Transfiguration book out in front of her. She was sporting an especially eager look on her face. "Hello, Parvati."

"How are you doing?" Parvati asked a little too cheerfully.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "I'm fine...why do you ask?"

Parvati giggled. "Well, I just thought...you know, after dinner…"

Lavender slipped into the room. "We saw you kiss Draco Malfoy!" she squealed, unable to contain her excitement.

Hermione blushed a brazen red. "Yeah? So what?"

"So? How was it?" Parvati asked, nearly falling off her bed. "Was it great? Amazing? Is he a good kisser? You must tell us everything!"

"There's not much to tell," Hermione replied, flopping down on her own bed. "I don't have anyone prior to compare him to."

Lavender gasped. "You mean, he was your first?!"

Hermione nodded. "I mean, that's not the first time we've kissed, but yes. He is the first boy who's ever kissed me...like that."

Parvati eagerly rested her chin in her hands. "Where was your first kiss then, Hermione? The Astronomy Tower? The library?"

"The Slytherin dungeons," Hermione said sheepishly.

Surprised gasps emanated from the mouths of both Parvati and Lavender, with Romilda letting out a squeak of astonishment from inside the bathroom. "You must tell us all about how it happened!" Lavender cried.

Hermione shrugged. "It was the day of the love potion incident. He took me down to the dungeons so we could relax. I suppose it was...well, I got a bit light-headed, actually. He was very forceful, but not in a bad sort of way. It was like he was afraid he would let go, and I'd disappear or something. Maybe a bit possessive. But it was still wonderful."

Her two roommates giggled and squealed. "That sounds wondrous," Parvati replied dreamily.

"It was," Hermione admitted. "But enough of me. How about either of you? How was your first kiss?"

Lavender plopped down on the floor. "Oh, mine was so embarrassing," she murmured. "I went to Hogsmeade during our fifth year. Group of Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, naturally. And I suppose I drank a bit too much, and-"

"Ooooh! I know this story! It's completely horrid!" Romilda exclaimed, peeking her head out of the bathroom.

"Shut up!" Lavender growled. "Anyway, I suppose my inhibitions were...lower than they normally are, and he was sitting right next to me, and he looked...ugh, so cute, with his accent and his haircut, and I just-"

"She put her lips all over Seamus Finnigan!" Parvati exclaimed, laughing so hard that she clumsily toppled over onto her side. Romilda was clearly giggling in the background, and even Hermione had to work extra hard to hold back a smile.

"Come on. It's not funny!" Lavender groaned.

"Yes, it is," Parvati said in between gasps.

Hermione tried her best to look sympathetic. "At least Seamus is a pretty nice guy, Lavender. You could have been a lot worse off, you know."

"Yeah!" Romilda agreed. "It could have been that Ron Weasley boy."

"Romilda!" Parvati hissed. "She's _dating_ Ron Weasley!"

A steely look crossed Lavender's face, and Romilda scuttled back into the bathroom, afraid to face her roommate's wrath. Hermione and Parvati looked at one another again and burst into fits of giggles, and after a moment, Lavender started laughing too. Eventually, the laughter subsided into comfortable silence, and the three girls still in the room eventually split off to do their own things, with Hermione snuggling into bed with her cat, Crookshanks, and Draco's scarf, Lavender wandering down to the common room in search of Ron, and Parvati sitting down at her desk to study for a Charms exam. The dormitory remained quiet as the evening faded into night, and the sky darkened over the prestigious castle.

**A/N: So, I hope that you all liked this chapter. It was fairly uneventful, I know. But I really wanted to add a scene with a baby hippogriff for them to help take care of, so that'll be a recurring thing. Anyways, hope you liked it, and feel free to leave a review or pm me! I'm planning on a Quidditch match (possibly) in the next chapter, so stay tuned! **

**-BlackthornUnicorn98**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello, all! Day 3, Part 1 is here, and I hope you all like it! As promised, a Quidditch match is the basis of this chapter, and here appears three more original characters: Amanda Murton, Barney Ecklehart, and Dany McDougal. Other than those three, I do not own any other character in this chapter. Enjoy!**

**IS IT LOVE?: A DRAMIONE STORY**

**Chapter 4: Quidditch, Wine, and Unnecessary Fights**

**(Day 3, Part 1)**

The castle was bustling with activity the following morning. There was a Quidditch match that was to take place that afternoon, and as was the norm, classes beginning after the noon hour would be cancelled. Each time there was a match, it was like the entire castle couldn't manage to sit still; Quidditch was like the football of the wizarding world, and by one o'clock or so, the entire school would be gathered in the stands around the Quidditch pitch, ready for some action.

In Potions class, Hermione sat down in her seat next to Parvati, wishing she could just go back to bed. Harry and Dean both slumped down in their respective desks, exhausted from hearing Ron's angry rant about Draco the night before. Lavender and Ernie slid into their desk as well, both surprisingly chipper. Draco slipped quietly into his chair next to Goyle, tapping his foot nervously; although he would never admit it to anyone, he always got quite nervous on Match Day. And today's game happened to be an important one between Slytherin and Hufflepuff. He had no reason to be nervous, but there he was.

Snape sauntered up to the front of the room. "Mr. Crabbe, put your Runes book away," he demanded. "Mr. Finnigan, get you feet off your desk! Miss Granger, head up please." Hermione raised her head to look at her professor, a dead look in her eyes. "Now then, today we will be brewing a rather complicated potion called the Babbling Beverage. Can anyone guess what that particular potion does?"

He got some confused looks, but after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, Susan Bones' hand shot in the air. "It causes the drinker to talk a lot, doesn't it, sir?" she asked meekly.

"Indeed," Snape replied, triggering a sigh of relief from Susan. "And not only that...it causes the drinker to speak nonsense, hence the 'babbling' part of the name."

Neville shakily raised his hand. "Is it...harmful?" he asked quietly.

Snape shook his head. "No, Mr. Longbottom, it is not. And unlike many other potions we have covered in this course, the effects of this potion can be reversed by a spell."

Hermione gingerly raised her hand, and to her surprise, Snape nodded at her. "Would that spell happen to be _Finite Incantatem_?" she questioned.

"Yes, Miss Granger," answered Snape. "That exactly."

Several people glanced back at her. Nobody really expected Hermione to possess extensive knowledge of countercurses; she was far more adept at Transfiguration and Ancient Runes. Nevertheless, Draco gazed at her in admiration, and Goyle irritably elbowed him on the arm.

"As I said before," Snape continued, "Babbling Beverages affect a person's ability to formulate coherent words. You all will brew a Babbling Beverage today, given the instructions and materials on your desks. And you shall work with the same partners as you did when you brewed your draughts of Amortentia, with a few minor tweaks."

Hermione's eyes widened, and she instantly began to worry that Snape was going to put her with someone other than Draco. The thought made her frown; she didn't notice Draco tapping his fingers anxiously on his table, waiting to hear Snape's words as well.

"Mr. Longbottom, you will work with Mr. Potter today," Snape instructed, motioning for Harry to move to Neville's desk. "Which means that Mr. Finnigan, you will work with Miss Brown."

Hermione was barely able to stifle her snicker, and Parvati laid her head down on her desk to keep from laughing. Lavender shot a fiery glare at both of her roommates as Seamus sat down next to her. "Shut _up_."

"What was that, Miss Brown?" asked Snape, crossing his arms.

"Nothing, Professor," Lavender mumbled.

"Thought so," he growled. "Now, off to work, you lot. This potion is rather complicated, and you'll need all the time you can get. Unless you want to be sitting in during the Quidditch match. Get on!"

Everyone got up and moved to their respective tables, and Hermione glanced expectantly at Draco. He approached her table, and the moment they locked eyes, he flashed her a charming smile. "Good morning, Granger."

"Good morning, Draco," she murmured, thankful to have such a skilled-not to mention, dashing-Potions partner.

He sat down next to her and looked at their list. "Let's see here. Four Valerian roots, crushed. The roots of an Aconite plant combined with the leaves of a Tentacula plant. Blend of Dittany and the stems of an Alihotsy herb, all combined in a size 1 pewter cauldron with a giant glob of flobberworm mucus. That's pleasant."

"Professor Snape loves to torture us, doesn't he?" Hermione muttered.

"He's not so bad," said Draco. "Believe it or not, there's actually a soul under that dark, permanently irritated shell of his."

"I'll believe it when I see it," Hermione replied, grinning. Draco smirked, gently brushing a strand of curly hair behind her ear before turning back to the list and getting to work.

The next ninety minutes passed mostly in silence. Hardly anyone spoke, other than Snape giving out a few instructions here and there, and Neville shrieking because his potion almost spilled on his shoes. Harry managed to catch it just in time, and Crabbe looked back at them and laughed. "Pathetic," he muttered to Ron, who was unfortunately still stuck with the cruel Slytherin as _his_ Potions partner.

Hermione crushed the last of the Valerian roots and sprinkled the tiny pieces into the mixture, stirring it with a large wooden spoon. "There. That's the last of it," she murmured. "Professor?"

Snape strode up to the pair's table with a piece of white ribbon and inspected their cauldron. The potion shone with a red-orange sheen, similar to the color of Dumbledore's phoenix, Fawkes. He gently dipped the white ribbon into the thick liquid, and when he pulled it out, it was a dark red color. Almost like blood.

"Excellent work, Mr. Malfoy, Miss Granger," he said softly. "The potion is nearly perfect. You two make quite an excellent team, don't you?"

"I suppose we do," Draco murmured. He gratefully glanced at Hermione, who turned away to hide the pink color that was rapidly rising in her cheeks.

Snape smirked. "Go ahead and put your cauldron away, and the two of you can go on to the Great Hall," he said. "Mr. Malfoy needs to eat before the match anyway. He'll need all his strength today."

"Yes, sir," Draco replied. "Don't worry, Granger, I've got this. I'll meet you out in the corridor." He patted Hermione on the shoulder, and she swiftly walked away, a slight bounce in her step. The moment she was gone, Draco turned back to Snape and whispered, "Professor, when will you begin teaching me? There's a feeling in my gut telling me that something is going to happen soon."

Snape thought for a moment. "Tonight," he replied quietly, careful not to let anyone else hear. "Tonight, after the Quidditch match and after dinner. Come to this classroom, and we will begin."

Draco nodded, slid his cauldron into a caddy on the far side of the room, and slipped out of class without another word.

In the corridor, he spotted Hermione standing on the sill of the window, looking out over the grounds of Hogwarts. A barrage of tiny snowflakes filled the air, blowing in all directions as they descended from the skies above. Hermione's hand was outstretched, catching the snowflakes as they fell, and her eyes sparkled with happiness. "I love the snow," she murmured. "It's so beautiful."

"Just like you," Draco said softly as he watched her.

Hermione jumped down from the sill and wrapped her arms around Draco's neck. "You're quite the panty-dropper yourself, Ferret."

"Am I, now?" he asked slyly, his hands circling her waist. "And what makes you say that?"

"Oh, just a hunch, I suppose," she replied with a flirtatious smile.

Draco brushed a curl out of Hermione's eyes and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Whatever you say, love. Now, what do you say we go grab something to eat? I don't know about you, but I'd very much love a piece of that cinnamon toast that they have on Match Days."

"Sounds delicious," Hermione replied. "I could go for some orange juice as well." She excitedly took his hand in her own and skipped off toward the Great Hall, with Draco willingly letting her pull him along behind her.

...

...

Meanwhile, Harry and Ron were stumbling out of Professor Snape's classroom, extremely grateful to be done with Potions for the day. Harry had barely managed to prevent several near-disasters from happening, but ended up spilling a container of Tentacula leaves all over the floor; and Ron had nearly gotten decked in the face by Crabbe when he made an offhand comment about Goyle's disgusting new haircut. Snape had immediately deemed their potions adequate and sent both boys off before more trouble emerged.

"Whew! Glad we're out of there," Ron grumbled. "I nearly ended up with a broken nose."

"Well, you _were_ making fun of your partner's best friend," Harry reminded him. "It was rather rude."

Ron rolled his eyes. "You sound like Hermione. And it's not my fault he looks like a pinhead! A big, ugly pinhead."

"But you didn't have to point it out," argued Harry. "You could have very well kept it to yourself, and you wouldn't have gotten in trouble."

Ron shrugged his shoulders. "I was just telling it like it is. The truth hurts sometimes."

"Come off it," Harry muttered. "Let's get some lunch, alright? Before Crabbe has a chance to throw another punch at you."

The two Gryffindors headed off toward the Great Hall, eager for a fulfilling and delicious meal before the long-awaited Quidditch match that was to be held that afternoon. It was one of the biggest events of the year so far; this match determined which House would be in second place. Gryffindor was in first, and Harry and his friends desperately hoped that Hufflepuff would win. On one of their recent visits, one of the Weasley twins-neither of them would admit which-had acquired the training charts from the Hufflepuff captain. They knew Hufflepuff's game plan inside and out, which would make it far easier to beat them, as opposed to Slytherin, whose team was constantly changing their routine.

Harry and Ron entered the Great Hall with visions of fresh fruit, breakfast pie, and pumpkin juice in their heads, but the closer they got to their table, the more Ron's face morphed into a scowl. Hermione was already there, and to the boys' chagrin, so was Draco Malfoy. The two were sitting together and laughing, and Hermione had a full spoon of scrambled eggs halfway to her mouth. Harry turned to Ron to tell him not to do anything rash, but it was too late...Ron was already practically sprinting toward them.

"Good morning, Hermione," he muttered. "And what do you suppose you're doing here, Malfoy?"

"I believe this is called eating food, Weasel," Draco snarkily shot back.

"Ron, leave him alone," Harry warned. "You don't want to get yourself into trouble like you did in Potions."

Ron ignored him. "Shove off, Malfoy. Why don't you go sit at your own table with _your _friends and leave our Hermione alone for once?"

"Stop it, Ronald," scolded Hermione. "I asked Draco to come and eat with me. If you're going to be mad at someone, it should be me, not him."

Draco took her hand. "Don't worry, Granger," he said softly. "I'll have to be going anyway. Quidditch practice, you know. Will I be seeing you at the match?"

"Count on it," she replied. "I'll be the one in the stands who's screaming like a lunatic."

"I look forward to seeing it," Draco murmured. "See you later, flower."

He kissed her softly on the cheek and stood to leave, regarding Harry with a slight nod and ignoring Ron completely. He skulked off to get ready for the match, and Hermione stonily glared at Ron as he sat down across from her. "Would you mind explaining yourself?" she demanded.

Ron shrugged. "You heard him. He had to go off and practice anyway."

"We were perfectly content eating together," Hermione grumbled. "And you know, you could have eaten with us. He wants to try with you two, but you're not exactly making it easy, are you?"

Harry sat down next to Hermione and took a roll from the basket. "I don't think Ron really cares about being friends with Malfoy," he mumbled. "As for me, I suppose he hasn't been as much as a prat to me lately, but that doesn't mean that I want to be his friend."

"I don't care that you aren't friends with him," Hermione replied. "I care about the two of you being civil toward him. It's important to me."

"He's been our enemy for six years, Hermione," Ron retorted. "How do you expect us to act toward him?"

Hermione shrugged. "If you two _cared_ about me enough, you would at least try to make an effort with him," she said bitterly.

Ron opened his mouth to respond, but a deathly glare from Harry made him decide against it. Instead, he reached for a piece of French toast and said nothing more on the subject, narrowly avoiding all possible eye contact with Hermione. She sat in silence, munching her food and sipping from her goblet of orange juice. Harry finished his meal and looked back and forth between his friends for a few minutes, conflicting glances periodically being replaced by sympathetic and irritated ones. He debated on his next words carefully, before finally nudging Hermione's arm. "Hey."

Hermione glanced up at him, refusing to speak.

Harry uncomfortably cleared his throat. "I still don't like Malfoy, Hermione. Never have. I abhor him, actually. But until all this ends, I suppose Ron and I can _try_ to be civil toward him. At least, we won't go out of our way to insult him or anything."

Hermione raised an eyebrow, evidently surprised by his words.

Ron, however, was more angry than surprised. "Speak for yourself, Harry! I'm not going to change anything about my behavior towards that slick git!" he groaned.

"Ron, stop," Harry scolded. "You heard Hermione. This is important to her, and I think we should try to coexist with Malfoy until this potion wears off. And she's right, you know. About Malfoy not being as antagonistic to us as he usually is. He does sort of seem like he's trying to be more decent. Can't you give him a little credit?"

Ron stubbornly shook his head. "He's done nothing in my eyes to make me believe he's trying to change. You saw how he talked to me just moments ago!"

"You were the one who started the conflict!" Harry said angrily. "And he could have been a lot worse to you for it."

Ron crossed his arms. "Doesn't matter."

"Ron, please," pleaded Harry, letting out an exasperated sigh. "I know it'll be hard, but it's for Hermione. We can at least try."

Hermione piped up. "It would mean so much to me, Ronald," she murmured, sounding like she was about to cry.

The redhead's eyes landed on his best friend, and he finally caved. "Alright, Hermione. I'll at least try. For you," he muttered.

A smile appeared on Hermione's lips. "You have no idea how much I appreciate this. Both of you. Now, I had better be off. I promised Parvati that I'd help her study for her Charms exam. See you at the match, yes?"

Ron and Harry nodded, and Hermione skipped off to her dormitory without another word to the boys.

...

...

By twelve fifty-five, the stands were already filled to the brim with students and professors alike. Large banners of green and yellow were strung at the tops, cascading all the way down to the ground a couple hundred feet below. The crowd was clamoring excitedly, anticipating the start of the match, and Harry was vigorously rubbing his hands together in an attempt to keep them warm. "Why is it so bloody cold?" Ron grumbled from beside him.

"Winter's nearly here, Ron," Harry replied. "Can't expect the sun to be out all the time, you know?"

Ron shrugged, looping his arm through Lavender's as Parvati sat down. "How did the Charms exam go?" he asked casually.

"It went fine," Parvati answered. "I'm predicting decent marks, at least. Did Hermione tell you?"

Harry nodded. "She left lunch early to help you, actually."

"She's such a good teacher," Parvati murmured. "It's kind of her to do things like that for people. You'd think she'd want to spend every spare moment of her day with that Malfoy boy."

"Seems like it sometimes," Ron grumbled. He glanced back at the stand entrance, and a horrified look crossed his freckled face. "Oh, what the ruddy hell is she wearing?"

Harry, Lavender and Parvati turned to look, and their eyes fell on Hermione herself. She'd taken a heavy black coat from her dormitory, a dark grey hat was perched atop her head, and she wore mittens of the same color over her hands.

And Draco's green, Slytherin-esque scarf was tied around her neck.

Ron started to stand up, but Harry yanked him down by the arm. "Ron, don't!"

"Exactly what is it that she thinks she's doing?!" Ron fumed. "Wearing a disgusting green scarf while she's cheering for Hufflepuff? Outrageous."

Lavender patted her boyfriend's hand. "Calm down, Ron," she said softly as Hermione sat down next to Harry. "She's just being supportive of him."

"That foul git," he grumbled.

"Hello!" Hermione said cheerfully, clearly not hearing what had just happened. "How is everyone?"

Ron gritted his teeth and forced himself to stay quiet, giving Harry the opportunity to respond in his place. "Things are great, Hermione. Excited for the match?"

She nodded excitedly. "I can't wait. I've never really gotten to see Draco play before. Or, I suppose I haven't really paid it any mind. But I'm really looking forward to it!"

Harry weakly smiled at her, his thoughts racing. Even though he loved seeing Hermione so happy and full of life, it truly made his heart ache. He hated Draco with every ounce of his being, and there was a possibility that those feelings would never change. But at the same time, Draco was most of the _reason_ Hermione was so happy. Once the potion wore off, things would go back to the way they were again, with Draco and Hermione hating one another's guts and Harry and Ron not having to act any sort of way toward him. Harry wouldn't have minded resuming his normal status with Draco...but it meant that Hermione wouldn't be the same.

And all he wanted was for her to be truly happy for once.

Harry's thoughts were interrupted by the opening of the gate down on the field. Slytherin and Hufflepuff players skimmed across the field on their brooms, which to Harry's knowledge ranged from Cleansweep 6's to Tinder Blasts to Bluebottles to Nimbus 2005's. Harry smirked to himself, contentedly thinking about his own world-class Firebolt that was stored up in his dormitory, locked securely in a trunk under his bed.

The players on the Slytherin team hovered on the left half of the field, with Hufflepuff on the right. Madam Hooch, the longtime flying instructor and Quidditch coach, stepped out onto the field to give the players her normal speech about playing fair and following the rules. They'd all heard the spiel before, and after a moment, she released the two Bludgers and the Golden Snitch from the box, before throwing the Quaffle into the air to begin the game. It was intercepted by Ernie Macmillan, who raced off toward the other side of the field, dodging Slytherins the whole way.

In the following forty-five minutes, Slytherin scored eight times and Hufflepuff scored thirteen. The Quidditch commentator, a Ravenclaw named Dany McDougal, was having a hard time not showing favoritism, as she was clearly a supporter of Hufflepuff over Slytherin. It particularly reminded Ron and Harry of Lee Jordan, the best friend of Fred and George Weasley who had graduated with them the previous year. Lee was always taking Gryffindor's side, and loved commenting on the players' looks, especially those of a past Gryffindor Chaser named Angelina Johnson.

As Slytherin took possession of the Quaffle, Hermione spotted Draco above the pitch, carefully scanning the field for the Snitch. He looked so serious up there, concentrated on doing whatever he could to lead his team to victory. A moment later, his concentration seemingly broke as a Bludger nearly hit him square in the head. He dodged it just in time, and Slytherin Beater Amanda Murton smacked it away, sending it after one of the Hufflepuff Chasers instead. "Hey! Watch yourself, Malfoy!" she hollered as she raced back off into the thick of the match.

Draco rolled his eyes and flew outside the Quidditch pitch, whizzing past a second-year Slytherin Beater who had managed to skip three practices in a row and probably had no clue what in the world was going on. He dodged one of the Bludgers twice more, and slowly started to suspect that somebody might have been tampering with it before the game; Beaters never purposefully went after a single person this much...at least, not on their own. An unmistakable look of panic crossed his face as he took off with the Bludger right on his tail, swerving and twisting and turning as he went. To his dismay, this did nothing to dispel the Bludger, and it continued to trail after him.

Up in the stands, Hermione noticed that something was going horribly wrong. She could see Draco's terrified expression as he zoomed along, trying to stay on course and not hit any of his fellow players in his attempt to escape the hexed Bludger. "Harry! Ron!" she moaned. "That Bludger is going after Draco!"

Harry blinked, his mind immediately going back to his second year at Hogwarts when Dobby the house-elf had put a spell on one of the Bludgers to convince Harry to go back home. He remembered how scared he'd been, not knowing what would happen if the Bludger were to strike him. Thankfully, everything turned out fine in the end, and due to Hermione's assistance and quick thinking, he hadn't been maimed by a cursed metal ball that day.

_Hermione_.

Harry forcefully nudged her. "Use that spell, Hermione!" he said urgently. "The one you used when this happened to me! Remember? The one that you told Snape about today!"

She gave him a helpless look. "I don't have my wand with me."

Harry eyed Draco, who now looked to be in danger of the Bludger catching up to him. It was only a few feet behind, inching closer and closer, and in a moment of determination Harry pulled his wand from inside his coat. "Tell me the spell," he commanded. "I'm going to try and stop it."

"_Finite Incantatem,_" Hermione replied, knowing that they were out of options. "Harry...please. Be careful. Don't hit Draco."

He nodded, and set his gaze on the Slytherin Seeker, who was a mere few inches away from the Bludger now. The look of utter terror on his face hit Harry hard, and he raised his wand, concentrating as hard as he could. The world went silent for a moment as he focused his energy on the out-of-control Bludger, before finally whispering, "_Finite Incantatem!"_

A shimmering blast of light shot straight across the field, and a huge explosion followed only a second after the impact. Sparks flew and debris fell as the crowd collectively gasped in surprise. McGonagall rose from her seat with her hand over her heart. Filius Flitwick stumbled out of his seat in utter shock. Every Slytherin in the stands looked on in astonishment, scared for the life of their Seeker, and the members of the other Houses who were present stared, completely awestruck. Each player on the field, both Slytherins and Hufflepuffs alike, froze in place, afraid to move even an inch. Even Severus Snape stood where he was, completely stunned by the actions of the unidentifiable source. Hermione instinctively grabbed Harry's arm, fearing the absolute worst.

And a moment later, the entire crowd began to roar...as Draco Malfoy emerged from the smoke and ashes of the destroyed Bludger, completely unharmed.

Everyone around them began to cheer and shout, but Hermione wasn't paying attention to them. She was staring at Draco, who wore a relieved expression upon his features. Her eyes glistened with tears, and she turned and threw her arms around Harry. "Thank you," she sobbed gratefully.

Harry held her there for a moment, unable to believe that the countercurse had actually worked in his _and_ Draco's favor. He squeezed his eyes shut, letting go of every bit of tension in his body. Hermione eventually managed to let him go, and began to jump up and down and cheer as she watched Draco get his composure back and fly off, in hot pursuit of what she assumed to be the Golden Snitch. Hermione, Parvati, and Lavender screamed giddily, with Harry grinning at them and even Ron looking mildly relieved by what had just happened.

Draco had indeed spotted the Snitch in the distance, and his near-death experience gave him enough determination to speed off after it and not let it out of his sight. As he flew closer, he heard Dany announce that Hufflepuff Chaser Hannah Abbott had scored ten more points, and he honed in on the Snitch, reaching as far as he could to grab it. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione clapping and smiling, and he noticed that she had his scarf looped around her neck, sticking out against her black coat. A smile crossed his lips, and he leaned forward, approaching the Snitch at an even greater speed. Within mere moments, it was in reach, and his gloved hand closed over the tiny golden ball.

The crowd cheered, and Dany's voice rang out loudly over the speakers. "DRACO MALFOY HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH! _AND_ LIVED THROUGH THE EXPLODING BLUDGER! 150 POINTS, AND SLYTHERIN WINS, ADVANCING TO THE QUIDDITCH FINALS!"

Draco slowed to a stop on his Nimbus 2005 high above the pitch, and breathed a huge sigh of relief. He clutched the Snitch like it was his lifeline, and looked out over the screaming crowd. He held it up over his head for them to see, grinning victoriously. His teammates beckoned for him to come down, and as he sank toward the ground, he spotted Hermione again, who was beaming from ear to ear. She and Parvati Patil were giggling together, and Draco couldn't help but smile.

He was joined by his teammates on the field, they all headed off to the sheds to discard their Quidditch robes and broomsticks. As Draco put his belongings away, Barney Ecklehart, the seventh-year Slytherin Captain, tapped him on the shoulder. "Well played today, Malfoy," he said proudly.

Draco shrugged. "It seems I had a bit of help," he replied.

Barney smirked. "Say, do you think it was the Granger girl?" he asked. "You've been hanging all over her recently, isn't that right? Suppose she did it?"

Draco looked down at his shoes, attempting to hide his blush. "I'm not sure."

"Right. But you're coming to the after-party, right?" Barney asked. "You've got to. It's always so much fun, and I'm sure your little girlfriend will be there to congratulate you, too." And with that, he walked away. Draco finished putting his belongings away, and followed Amanda Murton and Adrian Pucey into the castle, along with the rest of his team. Naturally, the after-party was to be held in the Slytherin dungeons, as many of the students knew, and he arrived to a room full of people offering him congratulatory statements. Draco was never exactly known for his ability to take compliments well, and only offered thanks when he was spoken to.

To his surprise, the guests that attended the after-party were not limited to just Slytherins. Quite a few Ravenclaws, some Hufflepuffs, and even a few Gryffindors had shown up to support the team. Draco suspected that most of the reason they even attended at all was because he'd nearly died during the match, but he didn't really mind.

The location of the after-party was a secret to most of the teachers, so the minute the Head Boy and Girl arrived, goblets around the room were magically filled with many different types of alcohol; wine, beer, mead, absinthe, and everything in between. Everyone who had ever attended a Slytherin after-party knew better than to get completely sloshed; it was still the middle of the day, and they were still expected to be on their best behaviors, regardless of whether or not they would be going to class. And there was dinner to consider, during which Dumbledore was going to make a big announcement, according to rumors that had been traveling throughout the castle for the past day or so.

Draco stood by himself, leaning against the dungeon wall with a goblet of red wine in his hand and occasionally accepting congratulations from his fellow students. He still wasn't used to being the center of attention, and he had to admit to himself that it was a pretty nice feeling. As he took a sip from his goblet, a hand lightly tapped him on the shoulder. "You were brilliant out there today."

He turned to find Hermione, who was smiling proudly, and promptly wrapped his arms around her. "It helped that you were there," he whispered in her ear. "More than you know."

Hermione kissed his cheek and pulled away. "I wouldn't have missed it for the world."

Draco blushed again, and noticed Harry standing behind Hermione, nearly out of his line of sight. "Hello, Potter," he said icily.

"Malfoy," Harry replied, giving him a nod.

Draco took Hermione's hand and gave it a squeeze. "By the way, thanks for what you did back there," he murmured. "I don't know what would have happened if it had caught up to me. You destroyed it just in time."

Hermione grinned brightly. "I didn't stop that Bludger, Draco."

Draco's eyes widened, and he nearly dropped his goblet on the floor. "You didn't? Then...then who did?" he asked, completely puzzled by her words.

Hermione turned to Harry and raised an eyebrow at him. He coughed. "Well, in my defense, Hermione was actually the one who told me the appropriate spell to use, otherwise I wouldn't have known how to do it, and-"

"_Potter?_" Draco asked incredulously. "_You_ were the one who destroyed the cursed Bludger?"

"Well, sort of," Harry answered.

"He did," Hermione added, grinning even wider.

Harry rolled his eyes. "If you wouldn't have forgotten your wand, I wouldn't have had to do it at all," he muttered.

"Call it a bit of sheer convenience," Hermione replied. "And you were _still_ the one who insisted on performing the spell yourself, you know."

"I did not!"

"Yes, Harry, you did!"

As Draco watched them converse, his heart began to swell. He and Harry had never exactly been on good terms or seen eye to eye, but now that he knew what Harry had done to help him, he felt the slightest bit different. He'd never imagined that the Potter boy would be the one to help him...he thought that sabotage was much more likely. Nevertheless, Draco took a deep breath and stuck out his hand. "Well, I...uh...I guess, thank you, Potter," he stammered. "I...appreciate what you did for me today."

Harry turned from talking with Hermione to Draco's outstretched hand. It caught him slightly off guard, but after a look of confirmation from Hermione, he finally shook it. "You're welcome. Er...yeah. Anytime."

The two exchanged small smiles, and Hermione giggled. "Wonderful!" she exclaimed. "Now, Harry, what say we go get a beverage? Meet you back here in a moment, Draco?"

He nodded kindly. "Count on it, Granger."

Hermione smirked and walked off toward the drink table, dragging Harry with her. Draco couldn't keep the smile from spreading over his face; he'd adored how excited Hermione had been when she had broken the news about Harry to Draco. He knew that all she wanted was for him and her best friends to get along, at least while they were still together, and even though it would take a lot more work to convince Ron Weasley that he was a decent person, he and Harry had sort of gained a bit of respect for one another.

Only a little.

As Draco continued to sip from his wine goblet, which was nearly empty by that point, he heard a snarky voice behind him. "Merlin's beard. I thought they'd never leave."

Standing behind him was none other than Pansy Parkinson, a fellow Slytherin and classmate of his. The two had become friends a long time ago, not too long after he'd befriended Crabbe and Goyle in his first year. He and Pansy weren't particularly close, but they'd always made sure to look out for one another. She'd been giving him the cold shoulder for the last few days, and he didn't exactly know why, but here she stood before him, acting as if nothing had happened. "Hey, Parkinson," he replied. "What brings you here?"

She rolled her eyes, clearly irritated. "This is the Slytherin common room, isn't it? I'd have thought it would be obvious."

"Fair enough," Draco replied. "Something bothering you?"

The pug-faced girl scowled. "Are you an idiot? Of course something is bothering me, Malfoy."

"Out with it, then," muttered Draco. "What's the problem? Go on, don't be shy."

Pansy crossed her arms. "My problem is you," she said angrily. "How you've been so distracted lately, barely hanging out in the dormitories with the rest of us, and flinging yourself all over that disgusting Mudblood. In front of _everyone_. Have you no shame or sense of propriety?"

Draco couldn't believe his ears. "You're upset about _Granger_?" he asked.

"Obviously."

"Why would she be a problem for you?" Draco demanded. "What do you have against her?"

"She's disgusting," Pansy said bluntly. "She's a dirty-blooded, disgraceful, troll-like, blood traitor-lover who shouldn't be trusted under any circumstances. And she hangs around that Potter boy, the most irritating little beast to ever walk these halls, and that Weasley one, the blood traitor himself. What's to be said of someone like her? Don't you see it, Malfoy? She's terrible."

Draco shook his head. "Whatever you see in Granger is your business. But I care for her, and that's that. You have no say in my feelings, Parkinson."

Pansy slammed the wall with her fist, attracting a few of her peers' attention. "_Feelings?!_ You want to talk about your _feelings_ for this Mudblood?" she screeched, making several students visibly flinch at her use of the racial slur. "Your feelings aren't real! It's all a ruse! You're under the influence of a _love potion_, Malfoy! Don't you realize that?!"

Draco paused for a moment, and a small voice spoke up behind him. "Draco? What's going on?"

"Oh, great! And you're on a first-name basis as well, are you?" groaned Pansy, who was gripping her goblet so tightly that her knuckles had turned white.

Hermione walked up beside Draco. "What do you want, Pansy?" she asked, ignoring the question.

"What I _want_ is for you to leave Malfoy alone!" Pansy shrieked. "I've wanted him far longer than you have!"

"Parkinson, knock it off!" Draco scolded, feeling Hermione clutch his arm.

"Stay out of this!" she shouted. "Did you not _hear _me, Mudblood?! Leave him alone! He was never yours, and he never will be!"

"Shut up!" Hermione yelled angrily. "_You_ leave Draco alone!"

Pansy growled low in her throat. "You can't tell me what to do, Harridan! You've no power over me! In fact, you're just an idiotic, disgusting, filthy, good-for-nothing, dirty-blooded wench!"

"Sod off!" cried Hermione.

Pansy refused, and instead launched herself straight at Hermione, chucking her silver goblet right at the Gryffindor's head. It hit Hermione right in the face, and she gasped as the cherry mead splattered all over her, soaking her from head to toe. She let out a yell and wrestled Pansy to the ground, with the latter screaming and pulling the former's hair. As the scuffle went on, Pansy continued to yell obscenities at the top of her lungs, and Hermione struggled against her adversary, biting back tears of anger and pain. The conversations going on within the group of students around them turned to a clamor, and Pansy had practically pinned Hermione to the stone floor of the dungeon when the heavy doors swung open. "Enough."

An unsettling silence overcame the entire room, and the crowd parted to reveal Severus Snape, who appeared to have heard everything that had just happened. Pansy froze where she was, giving Draco a chance to yank her off of Hermione and hold her back, though she did struggle against his firm grip. Harry rushed forward and helped his best friend up off the ground.

Snape approached them. "Would anyone care to explain what's going on here?" he asked darkly.

"Professor Snape, sir, it was all Pansy Parkinson's fault," Luna Lovegood said quietly. "She threw her drink at Hermione. We all saw it."

"But Granger threw the first punch," Millicent Bulstrode argued.

Susan Bones stepped forward. "Parkinson was making fun of her, Professor," she attested. "Being hateful and all that. It wasn't Granger's fault." She got nods of confirmation from several of her classmates.

Snape's eyes darted from Pansy, who was struggling to free herself from Draco's hold, over to Hermione, who was leaning against Harry and completely covered in mead. He'd heard the entire fight from the moment it started; he knew exactly who was to blame for the incident. "Miss Parkinson, you've just earned yourself two weeks' worth of detention and twenty-five points from Slytherin House for your behavior this afternoon. And I will not hesitate to take even more points away if you pull a stunt like this again. Now go on back to your dormitory and stay there. That's an order."

Pansy grunted and jerked away from Draco, glaring once more at Hermione and prissily stomping off to the girls' dormitory.

Snape regarded Hermione next. "As for you, Miss Granger, please excuse yourself and clean up. You don't want to walk around for the rest of the day smelling like cherry mead, I would hope. And if any one of you causes another problem, this 'party' is over. Now, get on with it." He turned on his heel and strode quickly out of the dungeon.

Harry glanced down at Hermione. "Are you alright?"

She shrugged. "I'm fine. I just...I need to be alone."

She stepped away from Harry and took off running across the dungeon without another word. Draco noticed, and immediately went to go after her. "Granger, wait up!"

She ignored him and kept going, running up the steps and out into the corridor. Draco continued to follow, but Harry opted to stay put, becoming increasingly more worried about his best friend than he had been before; however, he knew that if anyone could help Hermione in this particular situation, it would be Draco Malfoy.

In the vacant corridor, Hermione had slowed to a walk and started to wipe the mead from her clothes and shake it out of her hair. It had gotten sticky, making the task much harder, and she groaned in frustration as she violently tried to force it off of her clothing. Draco jogged up behind her, his eyes riddled with concern. "Granger? You alright?"

She sniffed, an immediate clue to Draco that she was close to crying. "Is that all I am to people? An idiotic, disgusting, good-for-nothing Mudblood?!"

Draco pulled her in for a hug, not even thinking about the fact that he now smelled strongly of mead as well. "No, Granger, of course not," he said softly, stroking her hair. "Don't listen to Parkinson, okay?"

Hermione leaned into his chest as the tears began to fall. "But she's right."

"She's an idiot," Draco said firmly. "You're none of that, what she said. You're so much more than that. Better things than that. She doesn't know what she's talking about."

Hermione sniffled again, and looked up into Draco's eyes, flushing with embarrassment because of her tears. "Is that so?"

"As a matter of fact, yes," Draco said kindly.

"Enlighten me," she muttered bitterly.

Draco smiled. "Well, for one thing, Granger, you're one of the most intelligent people I've ever met in my life. I'm honestly surprised that you weren't put in Ravenclaw all those years ago, but I suppose the Sorting Hat knows what it's doing, since you're a perfect fit for Gryffindor."

"I guess," Hermione mumbled. "Anything else?"

"Let's see here," said Draco, twirling a piece of her hair around his finger. "You're an unfailingly kind person, a trait evident in Hufflepuff, as it happens. You never turn people away when they're in need, and that's a powerful thing, Granger. More than you realize, I think. And from what I've witnessed, there's nothing you wouldn't do for the people close to you. Like Potter and Weasley? How many times have you put your own life in danger to help either of them? Many times would be my guess. And it's been your decision to do so each and every time. You're selfless, and that's one of the most valuable traits that a person can possess."

Hermione cracked a smile. "You really think all that about me, don't you, Draco?"

"Of course," he replied. "You know that I wouldn't tell you something like that if I didn't believe it was true, Granger."

A single tear slipped down her cheek. "Alright. I believe you," she said softly.

"Good," Draco murmured huskily. He wiped her tear away with his thumb and sealed the space between them with a gentle kiss. Hermione ran her hands up Draco's chest, feeling the soft material of his shirt and the comforting warmth that emanated from his body. He still tasted like peppermint, a flavor that she had decided was the most wonderful in the entire world. As he gently raked his hands through her curly locks and explored the inside of her mouth with his adventurous tongue, something inside of Hermione broke; a hidden waterfall of lust and longing that she had never really felt before.

Before she realized what she was doing, she'd grabbed Draco roughly by the front of his shirt and turned him around, effectively pinning him up against the wall with practically no escape. Her actions seemed to surprise her more than anything, but Draco didn't really seem to mind at all. He gripped the hair at the nape of her neck as she stood up on her tiptoes and continued to kiss him with a ferocity that she hadn't ever thought she'd be feeling within herself. Her hands traveled up and down his body, sending shivers over every inch of his skin, and he held onto her even tighter, pulling her up to him and effectively closing the gap that separated them. She kissed him fiercely with every ounce of longing, every bit of desire that existed within the entirety of her body.

After a few more moments of intense, hormone-filled, heated, mind-numbing, senseless kissing, Draco finally pulled away. He rested his forehead on hers, breathing heavily for a moment. "Been holding something in, have you, Granger?" he asked softly.

She shrugged, running her fingers over his warm cheek and relishing the smoothness of his skin. "I suppose I have."

He grinned. "Obviously."

Hermione kissed his bottom lip ever so gently. "As much as I would love to continue this, Draco, I'm starting to get a little uncomfortable," she murmured. "These clothes are sticking to my skin, and if I don't get changed soon, I'll never get them unstuck."

Draco chuckled. "Whatever you say, Granger. I _suppose_ I'll let you do what you need to." He winked, and pulled her up to him by the collar of her shirt. "But we are in no way done here, you mark my words."

She pecked him on the nose and giggled. "Consider them marked."

"Good. See you later then, Granger," he said, admittedly disappointed that he had to part with her after what had happened. She flashed him a smile and turned to head back to her dormitory. Draco took off in the opposite direction toward his own tower, his body shaking with pleasant tremors as he departed.

And neither student had bothered to notice that Severus Snape was lurking in a corridor nearby; he'd heard everything that had happened, and his strong suspicions about the effects of the love potion were confirmed...it was completely gone, beyond shadow of a doubt.

**A/N: Sorry for the super late update. College-ing isn't easy by any stretch of the imagination, you know. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed it. Cliche romance, as usual, I know, but hey, what can ya do? Feel free to let me know what you think, and stay tuned! Next part of this chapter should be up soon.**

**-BlackthornUnicorn98**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello, all! Chapter 3, Part 2 is here, and I hope you enjoy! It took me a while to write this one, as it's my longest so far, so if it seems disconnected, that's why. As usual, I don't own any of the characters, other than the aforementioned originals like Barney. Hope you enjoy!**

**IS IT LOVE?: A DRAMIONE STORY**

**Chapter 5: Announcements, Lessons, and Really Old Paintings**

**(Day 3, Part 2)**

Harry walked briskly along the edge of the corridor, shivering in the cold air that predicted the winter's coming arrival. As he approached the Fat Lady, longing to relieve himself in the warmth of the common room, the door opened and an unusually angry Dean Thomas stormed out. Harry refrained from asking him what was wrong, and instead slipped through the door before it shut.

In the common room, he came upon Ron, who was reclining on the couch with an old, tattered book in hand. "Hello, Harry. How was that stupid party? Any good?"

Harry shrugged. "It was exactly how you'd think," he replied. "There was a fight, though, funnily enough."

Ron sat up. "Oh, really? What happened?"

"Pansy Parkinson started getting into it with Hermione, actually," muttered Harry, who noted that he was starting to feel angry just talking about it. "It started with insults. The bitch called Hermione a...a _Mudblood_, and was saying all these awful things to her. First it was verbal, then it got physical. In the end, it was Professor Snape who broke it up. Good thing he did, too, or I would have considered decking that pug-faced freak myself."

Ron clenched his fists. "She would have deserved it."

"I suppose," Harry agreed. "You should have seen the look on Hermione's face, though. Completely crushed, she was."

"Where is she now?" asked Ron.

"I don't know," Harry answered. "She ran out looking like she was going to cry, and Draco followed her. I didn't see her after that. I didn't see either of them."

Ron's eyes widened. "You don't think…"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. But I think we'd better-"

He was interrupted by the heavy slam of a door upstairs, and both boys jumped. A moment later, a distraught Ginny Weasley descended down the stairs from the girls' dormitory, wiping angry tears from her cheeks. She stopped short at the sight of Ron and Harry, and straightened up, trying to hide the fact that she had been crying her eyes out just moments before. "Oh, hello, Ronald. Harry. How-how are you two this afternoon? Great? Wonderful?"

Harry froze in his seat, not entirely sure what to do. He'd never really been good with reading female emotions, and seeing Ginny in tears didn't make his thought process any easier. "Uh...fine, I guess."

Ron stood up and protectively embraced his little sister, who began to sob into his shirt, unable to hold back her tears. "What's wrong, Gin? Bad day?" he asked.

"It's Dean," Ginny wept. "I think...I think I just broke up with him."

An alarm went off in Harry's head, and he abruptly jumped to his feet, nearly losing his balance and toppling over in the process. "I-what happened, Ginny? You and-"

"Dean," Ginny finished. She rubbed her eyes, sniffling loudly and leaning into Ron's shoulder. "He just infuriates me sometimes. It's like he's got this superiority complex, and he only thinks of himself. He overanalyzes and assumes so much, and he accuses me of...well, that's not important. The point is, I suppose I just got sick of it, and cracked."

"He's not worth it, Gin," Ron said, patting her back. "You'll find a guy who fits your way of life a lot better than that Dean Thomas."

Harry let out a squeak. "Hey, Ron! Do you think Ginny would like to take a trip to Hogsmeade? The Three Broomsticks, perhaps? Maybe Honeydukes? Get her mind off things, you know."

Ginny smiled weakly. "I like that idea, Harry. Ron, would you care to join us?"

Ron shook his head. "I have a makeup assignment due for Professor Flitwick, and if I don't turn it in tonight, he'll _Wingardium Leviosa _my arse out the window. Otherwise, I would."

Harry couldn't help but smile. _Yes. Just Ginny and me._

"Well, good luck, Ron," Ginny said sweetly. "Shall we go, Harry?"

He simply nodded, and followed Ginny out the door of the common room.

As the two Gryffindors headed toward one of the back entrances of the castle, they were met with an obviously irritated Snape. He looked up from a book that he was reading and regarded them with a steely glare. "And where are you two off to in such a rush? Another Quidditch party?" His voice dripped with utter contempt.

"No, Professor," Harry grumbled. "We're going for a walk."

"You'd better keep track of time, Potter," Snape growled. "If you are found outside the castle after dark, you shall be serving detention with Filch for the next week."

"I know the punishments, Professor," Harry retorted. "I've been well aware of them for a long time."

Snape narrowed his dark eyes. "Good. Now, don't you and Miss Weasley be late to dinner tonight, do you hear? Professor Dumbledore has something important to share with everyone, and you would do well not to miss it."

"Pardon me, Professor Snape, but what is it that Dumbledore needs to share with the school?" Ginny asked meekly.

Snape glared at her. "That's not really your concern right now, is it, Miss Weasley?" he demanded coldly.

Ginny opened her mouth to speak, but Harry cut in. "We really should be going now, sir. Good day." And without another word, he tugged on Ginny's hand and hauled her away before Snape could make another snarky remark.

Snape watched the two students walk away, not believing for a moment that they were simply going to 'take a walk', but he decided not to dwell on it. Instead, he took off down the corridor again, heading back to his office.

...

...

By the time dinner rolled around, nearly everyone was in a good mood. Ron had been able to finish his homework with time to spare, and he'd had some time to relax by himself afterward.

Harry and Ginny's 'date' to Hogsmeade had been wonderful for both of them, although they'd had the misfortune of running into Seamus Finnigan, who happened to be Dean's best friend. Ginny had predicted that Seamus was going to run back to Dean and tell him that he'd seen Harry and Ginny together, but Harry dismissed it, telling her not to worry.

Luna Lovegood had spent the entire afternoon searching for her Spectrespecs glasses, and Neville had eventually joined her. They'd started talking about Wrackspurts and Grindylows, and Neville began to find her particularly interesting...in an odd sort of way.

Hermione had gone back to her dormitory, still slightly flustered from her encounter with Draco. She'd thoroughly showered, rinsing the sticky mead out of her hair and off her body. Following her shower, she'd curled up in her bed with a book for a while before heading down to dinner and trying to ignore the fact that her head was still spinning.

Draco had ventured back to the dungeons, conversing with Crabbe, Goyle, and Blaise for a time before retreating to his room and taking an unusually restless nap. He knew that he would need all his strength for his lessons with Snape that night, and that it would do him some good to be well-rested and prepared.

Now he sat in between Blaise and Adrian at dinner in the Great Hall, pushing his food around his plate and wishing he could go right back to bed. He didn't really want to talk to anyone, particularly not Pansy, who sat not too far away from him, giving him exceptionally steely looks whenever she had the opportunity. She eventually started flicking food at him, and he did his best to ignore her by shoving a spoonful of potatoes into his mouth, despite the fact that he had no appetite.

Meanwhile, at the Gryffindor table, Hermione wasn't feeling particularly hungry either. Across the table, Ron was digging into a leg of turkey and slurping from a goblet full of what everyone around him assumed to be pumpkin juice. He seemed perfectly content, as did Harry, who was twirling some sort of pasta around his fork, taking a bite every once in a while. Hermione barely touched her food, staring up at one of the light fixtures hanging from the ceiling, until Professor Dumbledore stepped up onto the podium to address the Great Hall. "Good evening, students!" he boomed. "I hope you all have enjoyed your wonderful meal this evening!"

The chatter throughout the room slowly began to die down as every face in the room gazed up at the old Headmaster, who now wore a grim expression upon his features. "I do so dislike ending such a wonderful day on a bad note, but tonight, I must regretfully share some distressing information with you all. Please prepare yourselves."

Seamus leaned over and whispered to Hermione, Harry, and Ron. "What's he talking about, do you suppose?"

They all shrugged, but Hermione frowned. She had a feeling she knew exactly what was coming.

Dumbledore continued. "Years ago, there was a Dark Lord, as you all know, who sought to destroy an entire branch of talented witches and wizards. He did not succeed, of course, and lies buried in a tomb in an undisclosed location. His name? Lord Voldemort." A shudder rippled across the room at the name, but it didn't faze him one bit. "He has been gone a long time, but his followers are not. And now the Death Eaters, as they are called, are being targeted across the continent. Beings are hunting them down and for lack of a better term, 'murdering' them as we speak."

A collective gasp of dread filled the room, and Hermione turned to face Harry. "Dementors. It's the Dementors," she said softly.

"The creatures involved are after the Death Eaters solely," Dumbledore continued on. "But you all must be aware that if you get in their way, they will not simply toss you aside to get to what they truly want. If they get the chance, they will try to kill you. And your job is to not give them that chance. The Dementor's Kiss is a fate far worse than the grave, I must warn you."

Ron's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "You knew already, Hermione?!" he whispered. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"It wasn't the time," she murmured. "I didn't want either of you worrying more than you needed to."

Ron began to argue, but Harry shushed him as Dumbledore spoke again. "I have been given certain assurances that they are not to come anywhere near this castle, but in case the situation should arise, I wanted you all to be aware and cautious. Now, go on and finish your dinners, then off to your towers. It's been a long day for us all."

He sat down, and the Great Hall was filled with chatter again. Hermione glanced over at Draco, who had a deadpan expression on his face. She knew he was worried about his parents more than anything.

"Harry?" Lavender asked worriedly. "What if the Dementors _do_ come to Hogwarts? How will we fight them off?"

"Have you forgotten Dumbledore's Army?" Neville exclaimed. "Harry taught us a slew of defensive spells to fight off evil forces, whichever form they may come in, and one of the charms that we learned was the Patronus Charm! We're certainly well-equipped by now. We can handle ourselves."

"But we've never actually faced the Dementors ourselves, Neville," Ginny argued. "We've never even gotten _close_ enough to see one."

Ron shook his head. "Harry has," he replied. "And so has Hermione. Probably Dumbledore as well. We have people who can teach us. Prepare us."

"If the issue comes up, we'll address it," Harry muttered monotonously. "I'm going to eat my noodles now."

He shoved a clump of noodles into his mouth, effectively ending the conversation.

...

...

After a while, people began to get up and depart from the Great Hall for the night, escaping to the comfort of their rooms. Harry, Ginny, Ron, Hermione and Lavender eventually opted to go back as well, completely drained of their energy and ready for a relaxing night. As they left the Great Hall, Dean Thomas stomped quickly past the group, refusing to make eye contact with any of them. Ginny whimpered, and Hermione took her arm. She'd sensed something had happened with Dean, but hadn't had the heart to ask.

They continued on down the corridor, en route to the Gryffindor common room. Lavender greeted Neville and Luna on the way, and she exchanged a knowing glance with the other two girls. They'd all heard rumors that Luna and Neville had formed a fast friendship and now had it bad for one another, but one could only trust so many rumors that swirled around the castle.

As the passed the Potions room, Hermione spotted Draco engaged in an intense conversation with Snape. It looked like some sort of heated argument, or a disagreement of sorts. She opted not to interrupt, and kept walking, but Snape spotted her before she got too far. "Good evening, Miss Granger. Mr. Potter. Miss Brown...Weasleys." Ron and Ginny shot daggers his way.

Draco turned around, and his expression brightened noticeably at the sight of Hermione. "Granger! Hey!"

Hermione waved shyly. "Hi, Draco. I'm heading back to Gryffindor Tower...would you like to join me?" she asked hopefully.

Draco's smile wilted. "I can't right now, Granger," he said sadly. "Got some things to talk about with Professor Snape before class tomorrow. But later, maybe?"

She nodded. "Of course. Later."

"Great," Draco replied. "See you then."

She waved to him as she turned to walk away, and noticed Snape shooting her a coy smile. It wasn't like his usual sneer of derision that she was accustomed to...he actually seemed genuinely happy about something. And she pondered what it could be the entire way back to Gryffindor Tower.

...

...

Draco watched Hermione disappear down the corridor, surrounded by her group of friends. He'd regretted refusing her offer, but at the moment, he had other things on his mind. "You gave me your word, Professor," he said quietly. "When I asked, you gave me your word."

Snape slipped his hands into the folds of his robes. "Words can be taken back, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco turned to face his professor. "A promise is a promise," he hissed. "I wanted to know how to protect my parents, and you swore you'd teach me. So get on with it."

A conflicted display of emotions crossed Snape's face. Draco was right. He _had_ promised to teach Draco the Patronus Charm, and he _was_ a man of his word. But now, he was feeling rather uneasy about it; not only was it an unusually complicated spell, but a part of him expected that by the time Draco had mastered the charm enough to use it at a moment's notice, he wouldn't...need it anymore.

Shutting out his thoughts, the Potions Master shrugged off his concern and sighed. "Alright, Mr. Malfoy. Come inside, then."

Draco grinned, eagerly striding past Snape and into the Potions room, and the professor shut the door behind them.

Inside, Draco sat himself down on a desk, rubbing his hands together. "So, how does this work, sir?" he asked. "Granger told me a bit, but not everything."

Snape leaned back against the desk across the aisle. "What prior knowledge have you already acquired about the charm from Miss Granger?" he asked.

Draco thought back. "Well, she said that it repels Dementors, for one," he recalled, thinking back to their conversation in The Three Broomsticks. "It creates a shield for the wizard who can perform it correctly, and the Dementor feeds on it, rather than him. And, let's see here...it's quite advanced, from what I've gathered. Only a witch or wizard who is worthy can conjure one, right?"

Snape nodded. "Right. Only an extremely powerful witch or wizard can produce one as well. And a full Patronus is the most difficult to conjure; it surrounds not only the caster, but everything around them. It can fend off any Dementors within a half-mile radius of the caster's location. But that doesn't happen very often, I can assure you."

"Thought so," replied Draco.

Snape stood up straight, taking his wand from the folds of his robes. "The charm also requires a memory. A very powerful, happy memory at that."

Draco nodded. "Granger did mention that," he murmured. "But what if I don't have a happy memory that's powerful enough to work?"

"Everyone has a powerful enough memory, Mr. Malfoy. Even me," Snape countered.

Draco thought for a moment. "But happy experiences aren't exactly common in my life," he said quietly. "You've met my father, Professor. You know how he is."

A familiar feeling of pain welled up inside of Snape, and his mind immediately went to the past actions of his own father. Tobias Snape shared many uncanny similarities with Lucius Malfoy; both men were physically and psychologically abusive to their sons for a very long time. Snape had suffered for years at the hands of his father, while his mother did everything she could to stop him. In contrast, Narcissa Malfoy never made an attempt to harm her son in any way, but she never really tried to stop Lucius from hurting him, either. Snape had long suspected that Narcissa was actually somewhat afraid of her husband. Regardless, he could see many similarities between his life and Draco's; he actually saw quite a bit of himself in the young Slytherin, which he thought played an important role in his initial desire to assist him.

"I do know your father," he murmured. "And you'll come to realize that even with an upbringing like yours or mine, there is still room for happy memories. Maybe it's a gift you've received. Maybe it's a place you've visited in your lifetime. An event you've attended, or something you've witnessed. And sometimes, it can even be a person."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "What's your memory, Professor?" he asked curiously.

Snape took a deep breath. "I'll tell you, Mr. Malfoy, but you have to swear that this conversation does not travel beyond these walls," he said sternly.

"I swear it on the name of Salazar Slytherin himself," Draco said nervously.

Snape spoke again. "Very well. There was a girl, you see, whom I befriended in my younger years. We were friends for a very long time, even through our days of magical schooling."

"She was a witch? Here at Hogwarts?" Draco asked incredulously.

Snape nodded. "We had a bit of a falling out later on in our Hogwarts years, and she ran off and married some pure-blood wizard. Hated that man, I did. But I still held feelings for her through the rest of my life. I still do."

"What became of her?" asked Draco. "Where is she now, Professor?"

Snape narrowed his eyes coldly. "She's dead."

"Oh," Draco murmured, clearly not expecting the response he got. "I...I didn't realize."

Snape kept talking like nothing had happened. "But her memory still keeps me going to this day. And on the rare occasion that I have had to cast a Patronus myself, I picture her smiling face, with green eyes the color of emeralds, and her flaming red hair. She was beautiful, the woman was. And she's the one genuinely happy memory that I still possess, even after all this time."

Draco seemed slightly caught off guard by his professor's sudden sentimentality, and cleared his throat. "So, if there's a person that makes me truly happy, I could think about them and potentially produce a Patronus?" he asked hopefully.

Snape gave him a nod. "You could. But don't expect it to come to you on the first try. Like I've said before, it's incredibly difficult, no matter what or who you're thinking of."

"I know," replied Draco. "How do I do it?"

"You must focus," Snape instructed. "Now, close your eyes."

Draco did as he was bid, shutting his eyes and gripping his wand in his right hand.

"When you have your memory, allow it to fill you up, from the tips of your toes to the top of your head," Snape continued. "Let it consume you. Feel it deep down in your bones, coursing through the veins in your body. Picture your memory as it fills you, and focus on nothing else. Then speak the incantation, _Expecto Patronum_. Whenever you feel that you're ready, you can try it."

Draco breathed in deeply for a few moments, picturing his mother's smiling face in his mind, before finally uttering the words himself. "_Expecto Patronum._"

To his disappointment, nothing happened.

"Balderdash," he moaned. "Professor, what if I am unable to do it? What if I can _never_ conjure one? How will I be able to save my parents if I cannot produce a proper Patronus?"

Snape held up his hand. "Hush, Mr. Malfoy. That was your first try...it doesn't mean that it should be your last. Perhaps you just haven't chosen the right memory."

"I thought of my mother," Draco mumbled. "Her face, smiling at me. And somehow, it still didn't work." He kicked at the leg of the desk closest to him in frustration.

"Try again," Snape said. "Use a different memory this time. You may be surprised at what works for you."

Draco nodded, and closed his eyes again. He pictured himself, Crabbe, Goyle, and Blaise in the Slytherin dormitory, laughing and joking together. Concentrating, Draco raised his wand and said, a little bit louder, "_Expecto Patronum."_

Again, nothing happened.

Draco grimaced. "Professor, I don't know if I can do it. I'm focusing as hard as I can. Truly. Maybe I'm just not worthy."

To his astonishment, Snape smirked. "Believe me, Mr. Malfoy, if you weren't worthy, we'd know by now. Once, a wizard who was impure and unworthy attempted to cast a Patronus, and he was consumed by maggots that crawled out from the end of his wand."

Draco cracked a smile, admittedly feeling a little bit better about his past two failures.

Snape gestured to Draco's wand, which he had dropped on the table. "Come on. Think, boy. Dig deep inside yourself. There has to be a memory that you can use."

The frustrated Slytherin contemplated his thoughts for a moment, before coming to a realization and looking up at Snape. "Professor, I've got one. I think."

"Good," Snape said. "Try it once more, then."

Draco nodded, and raised his wand for the third time. After a few seconds of intense concentration, he recited the incantation again, this time in the form of a loud shout. "_Expecto Patronum!"_

To the surprise of both Draco and Snape, a silver ball of light burst from the tip of the former's wand; it was a dazzling sight to behold. Streams of light shot around the room in all directions, making Snape duck his head out of the way. And as they watched, a translucent, silver-colored otter appeared at Draco's feet, circling around him as if to protect him from the attack of a Dementor.

Draco couldn't hold it any longer, and dropped to his knees. The shimmering lights disappeared, as did the otter, and Snape clapped his hands. "Marvelous, Malfoy! Truly outstanding work!" He patted Draco on the back heartily.

Draco could feel his heart rate decrease as he took several deep breaths in and out, releasing every bit of tension in his body. The hand holding his wand shook violently for a moment before finally it subsided, and he rose to his feet. "That felt...odd."

Snape nodded. "It'll become more natural the more you practice," he assured Draco. "And because I am a morbidly curious individual, I must ask...what were you thinking? Which memory did you choose that time?"

Draco's cheeks turned pink. "I was think of someone's face," he murmured, almost in a trance. "How she usually has this 'I-know-everything' attitude, yet she always strives to learn even more. And her eyes; I've always thought they looked like pools of honey in the sunlight. Fair-skinned, brown hair that frames her face perfectly, I can't help it, Professor, she's just-"

A rare smile appeared across Snape's lips. "You were thinking of Miss Granger, weren't you?"

Draco said nothing, but by the way he looked down at his shoes in embarrassment, his answer was quite obvious.

"Well done, indeed, Mr. Malfoy," Snape encouraged. "You have performed magic at the age of sixteen that scores of experienced wizards and witches have yet to even attempt. This was a massive undertaking, and I am, dare I say...proud of you."

Draco sat himself down in a nearby chair, completely drained of his energy. "Professor, you never mentioned that a Patronus could take the shape of an animal."

"No, I didn't."

"Why, then? What is the meaning of it?"

"There are two kinds of Patronuses a person can produce, Mr. Malfoy," Snape said thoughtfully. "The first, a corporeal Patronus, does in fact take the shape of an animal. The animal can be determined by a number of factors, and it shields the caster very well, acting as a sort of spiritual guardian. The other is an incorporeal Patronus, which does not take the shape of a particular animal, and it does not protect the caster in the same way that a corporeal Patronus does. However, some wizards may choose to cast an incorporeal Patronus to hide the guardian's true form. I believe one of your past Defense Against the Dark Arts professors, who was very skilled with this particular charm, actually chose that option for himself."

Draco went back to his conversation with Hermione, and remembered something she'd said. "Professor, are you talking about Remus Lupin? He was a werewolf, wasn't he?"

Snape nodded. "Lupin's Patronus manifested itself as a wolf, and he was afraid it would give away too much about his 'condition', for lack of a better term," he explained. "So he purposefully cast an incorporeal Patronus to hide it."

"It does make sense," murmured Draco. "So, the corporeal Patronus is the more challenging one to perform, then?"

"It is," Snape replied. "And yours is an otter."

Draco tapped his chin for a moment. "What determines my Patronus, professor?" he asked. "Otters are of no significance in my life...so why does my Patronus manifest itself as such?"

"There are many reasons behind the form of one wizard's individual Patronus," Snape answered. "Sometimes, they are based on a person's moral character. They can come from an animal specific to that wizard's region of residence, and on occasion, the Patronus happens to be that wizard's favorite animal. Take Professor Dumbledore, for example. His Patronus, the phoenix, is an incredibly rare one, but the Headmaster is particularly interested in phoenixes himself."

Draco nodded silently.

"A corporeal Patronus can also come from one's relationship with one's family," Snape continued. "For example, Mr. Potter's Patronus is a stag, the same as his father's. He and James were very similar in terms of their respective moral characters, so it is only fitting that the two would share the same Patronus. His mother's was very similar to theirs as well. And in rare cases, the form of one's Patronus actually changes over the course of time, due to their deeper feelings for another, shock, a traumatic experience, or a complete rift in one's character or personality."

"But I still don't understand," said Draco. "Why is mine an otter? I don't see otters around here. They're not a particularly favorite animal of mine. And neither of my parents can even _produce_ a Patronus, to my knowledge. Why is this so?"

Snape shrugged. "I suppose this is a mystery that you'll have to solve on your own, Mr. Malfoy," he said. "Maybe you'll find out for yourself someday. Now, why don't you be off? I can see that you're quite tired, and you will need your rest." Snape turned on his heel and began to walk away, before Draco spoke up again.

"What's _your_ Patronus, Professor Snape?"

Snape stopped short and turned to face Draco again, carefully deciding on his next words. "The same as the woman I loved, once upon a time," he murmured.

Draco stood up. Though he was still curious, he opted not to ask any more questions. "I see. Goodnight, Professor."

And without another word, professor and student parted ways for the night.

...

...

As Draco left the Potions room, his mind was running wild, unable to comprehend everything that had just happened. He'd actually managed to cast a successful Patronus, and a _corporeal_ one at that. The sight of the otter 'swimming' around his feet stuck in his mind as if it were being influenced by the Sticking Charm; regardless, he knew he'd figure out its significance someday, and decided not to think about it too much.

He approached the Gryffindor dormitory, and the Fat Lady glared at him. "Gryffindors only, Mr. Malfoy," she said curtly.

"I have to talk to Granger," he protested.

The Fat Lady shook her head at him. "Not without the password. Those are the rules."

Draco groaned and began to think back. Had he heard Hermione or any of her friends utter it lately? He couldn't seem to remember, and turned back to the portrait. "Please," he pleaded.

"I'm afraid not, Mr. Malfoy!" she shouted. "You know the rule! No Slytherins, Hufflepuffs, or Ravenclaws allowed in this dormitory unless accompanied by a Gryff-"

She was suddenly cut off as the door swung open, revealing Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown. The latter moaned in frustration, eyes blazing with fire, while the former smiled sweetly at Draco. "You looking for Hermione?"

"Yes, actually," he replied. "Do you know where I can find her?"

"Common room," Parvati replied. "She's doing homework. Come _on_, Lavender." She dragged her best friend down the corridor, and Draco's curious mind couldn't help but wonder what was going on. Unfazed, he marched straight into the common room and shut the door, with the Fat Lady muttering unintelligible obscenities to herself in the background.

As Draco entered the common room, he was met with the sight of several Gryffindors, sitting around working on various things. Ron sat on the leather couch, looking extremely frustrated. Ginny and Hermione were laying on the floor, reading quietly to themselves. Seamus Finnigan was perched on the steps of the tower, tearing a piece of parchment into ragged strips. Neville and Dean were slumped in a pair of fluffy chairs, doing what Draco could only assume to be Transfiguration homework, from the looks of it. He noticed that Dean kept covertly glancing over at Ginny, earning a series of icy glares from Harry, who sat at the small table across the room.

Hermione glanced up from her work, and smiled as her eyes fell on Draco. "Hello! What brings you here?"

Draco smiled. _You, beautiful_. "I just thought you'd want to take a walk with me," he said shyly. "But, you know, if you're busy-"

Ginny grinned, and Hermione shut her book. "I just finished up, actually. Let me go grab my coat, and I'll be back shortly!" She jumped to her feet and scampered up the steps of the tower excitedly, nearly tripping over Seamus as she went.

Draco couldn't help the smile that spread over his face as she disappeared, but it vanished when he laid eyes on Ron, who wore an alarmingly dark expression. "What are you playing at, Malfoy?" he demanded, practically jumping to his feet.

"Ron, stop!" Ginny pleaded.

Ron ignored his sister's words and strode right up to Draco, looking him dead in the eyes. "I'm warning you, prat, keep your bloody hands off Hermione, or mark my words, I'll turn you into a piss-filled teapot."

Draco's eyes narrowed. "Is that a threat, Weasley?!"

"If that shiny, snooty, disgusting prefect badge fits!" Ron shot back.

"Ron! Malfoy! Both of you, knock it off!" Harry shouted.

"Stay out of this, Potter!" warned Draco.

"Don't tell my best mate what to do, you dunder-headed slug!" snarled Ron, grabbing hold of Draco by the scruff of his shirt. "You hear me?!"

Seamus rushed over. "Ron, let go of him!" he hollered, attempting to yank Ron away.

"Horrible blood traitor!" Draco growled. "Go to hell!" He felt who he could only assume to be Harry pulling on his arms from behind, trying to separate him from Ron.

All of a sudden, they heard a small voice from the stairs that made them all go silent. "Ron? Draco? What's going on?"

Hermione stood in the stairway, clad in her coat and mittens, with Draco's scarf slung around her shoulders. She stared at them both, an obvious look of sheer anger and disappointment on her face. Seeing her expression, Draco's heart began to hurt; he immediately regretted letting his guard down and allowing Ron Weasley to provoke him.

Neville piped up. "Hermione, it was all Ron's fault," he said quietly. "He started it."

"I don't care who started it. I'm stopping it," she replied, a steely edge in her voice.

Ron noticed how angry she was, and finally loosened his grip on Draco's shirt. Draco immediately took the opportunity to back away from the furious redhead, with Harry holding him back for good measure. Hermione approached the riled group of boys, addressing the disgruntled Slytherin. "Shall we go, Draco?"

He nodded mutely, and followed her through the door, earning one last warning look from Ron as he went.

...

...

In the corridor, Draco took Hermione's arm. "I'm sorry about all that, Granger," he murmured. "Finnigan was right, Weasley did start it, but I didn't try hard enough to ignore him."

Hermione kept walking. "My understanding was that you were going to try with him," she mumbled. "Both of them."

"Potter isn't so much the problem. Weasley's much more difficult," Draco replied guiltily. "I'll never get him to trust me, I can see it in his eyes."

"You have to keep trying," Hermione said. "It'll take a lot of work on your part, but it's possible, and it can be done. Eventually."

Draco shrugged. "I'll try my best, love."

She smiled. "Good. Now, where is that we're going? Off on a walk, you said?"

"Right!" Draco exclaimed. "I almost forgot. There's a secret passageway to the Slytherin dungeon that I want to show you...but you must promise to keep it a secret. Only a handful of people know that this passage actually exists...Professor Dumbledore, Professor Snape, Marcus Flint, Filch, Barney Ecklehart, myself, and now you. And you have to swear not to tell anyone."

Hermione raised her right hand. "I swear on the name of Godric Gryffindor, I will never tell a soul," she said mechanically.

Draco smirked. "Granger, you're impossible." He kissed her gently on the cheek and led her off toward an archway in the corridor that stood not far away. She followed Draco out onto the grounds, up a small hill, around a few bends, twists, and turns, and finally came to a blank stone wall near the area of the castle where the dungeons should have been located.

"Where is it?" Hermione asked, her eagle-eyed gaze scanning the wall for any indication of a secret passageway.

"Here," Draco replied. He took out his wand and tapped ten of the stone bricks embedded in the structure; to Hermione's delight, a door appeared and opened for them, revealing a dark hallway. "Shall we?"

Hermione nodded excitedly, and Draco slipped through the tiny door, landing swiftly on his feet below. She followed suit, holding onto Draco's hands as she jumped. "_Finite_," she whispered, and the stone bricks resituated themselves in a matter of seconds. Draco smiled proudly, and ushered her on down the dark, damp hall.

As they walked, Hermione looked around and squeaked out, "Draco, what exactly are we doing down here again?"

"I have something wonderful to show you," he replied. "I know you'll love it, just trust me."

Hermione wrinkled her nose. "Forgive me, but what could possibly be so wonderful about a dingy, dark hallway that smells like a wet dog and is riddled with puddles of dirty water?"

He chuckled. "Just wait, Granger. Sometimes, appearances aren't everything."

Hermione said nothing, and instead followed him to the end of the hallway, which led into a small room. Not unlike the hall, the room was dirty and unpleasant-smelling. Draco pointed his wand at a torch on one of the walls, murmuring, "_Lacarnum Inflamari_."

The torch now ablaze, Hermione could now clearly see that the cellar-like room did actually consist of a small table, a few chairs, a mirror, a broken sofa, and a very large portrait on the wall. Filled with curiosity, she stepped forward, peering closely at the painting depicted within the golden frame, and saw several moving people.

One was a tall, burly man with long hair and green eyes. He wore regal robes made of leather and fur, as well as a leather belt around his midsection, looking a bit like a hunter. He was polishing what looked like a silver sword, laughing and talking with the people around him. The second was a tall, thin woman with flowing, black hair and an extremely serious expression, reminding Hermione somewhat of Professor McGonagall. The woman wore robes of indigo, and she also had something silver clutched in her hand, but Hermione couldn't quite tell what it was. The third person was a woman as well, a plump, happy one with curly hair and a kind face. Hermione thought she looked a bit like Molly Weasley, only with darker hair. She was drinking from a golden goblet, smiling and motioning to the first woman. And the fourth person was a thin, bald, sallow-looking, bearded man who donned expensive-looking emerald robes and wore a sort of locket around his neck, seemingly refusing to speak to any of the others. Hermione noticed that the first man and the two women were conversing with one another, quite jovially, while the last man stood off to the side, looking rather irritated.

"Draco?" Hermione asked, feeling puzzled. "Who exactly are these people?"

He only grinned, and stepped up to the portrait as well. "Hello?"

The friendly bearded man looked his way, and smiled warmly. "Ah, Mr. Malfoy. It's good to see you again, son. You look well."

"Indeed, you do!" the plump woman exclaimed. "Oh, it's been far too long! Been keeping busy, have you? How are your classes going? Wonderfully, I hope?"

Draco nodded. "They are, madam."

_Madam?_ Hermione thought, becoming even more confused. Draco never called anyone 'madam'...this had to be a group of extremely important people for him to address any of them by that kind of title. She cleared her throat nervously and said, "Hello there."

The raven-haired woman smiled at her. "Why, hello, dear. Draco, who is this young lady?" she asked. "Introduce her, would you?"

"Sirs, madams, this is Hermione Granger," Draco said. "We've known each other for a long time; she also happens to be in my year here at Hogwarts, actually."

The burly, red-headed man smiled kindly at them, while the bald man scoffed. "Pfft. Granger. Clearly a full Muggle-born name, if ever I've heard one." His voice seemed to cut like glass as he spoke.

Hermione raised an eyebrow, and the kind, plump woman glared over at the man who had just spoken. "Now, enough!" she scolded. "We have guests now. Don't be so rude!" She regarded Hermione with an apologetic look. "You'll have to forgive Salazar, darling. He's quite grumpy these days."

The woman's words made something click in Hermione's mind, and suddenly she knew exactly who she was talking to. She instantly recognized the face of the bearded man...his lone portrait had hung in the Gryffindor common room for centuries. She remembered the faces of both of the women, who were described by Professor Dumbledore as two very powerful, famous witches. And the name that the woman had just uttered...that was familiar too. Hermione stepped back. "You...you're the Hogwarts Four, aren't you? The original Founders."

Smiles appeared on the faces of Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff, and Godric Gryffindor, and Hermione gasped.

Draco couldn't hide his grin. "Told you it would be worth it," he said softly.

Hermione was completely awestruck. "What are you all doing down here? Who else even knows of your portrait down here?" she asked.

"Not but a few souls," Ravenclaw replied. "And we'd like to keep it that way, if you would be so kind, Miss Granger."

Hermione nodded. "Of course," she said. "I promise."

Slytherin coughed. "The promises of a Muggle-born mean nothing," he rasped, wagging his finger at her. "Untrustworthy, the lot of you are, child."

"For your information, Granger is the most trusting person I know!" Draco retorted.

"My word! You dare to speak to your own House Founder in that tone, boy?!" Slytherin hissed back at him.

Gryffindor stood up. "Salazar, that's enough!" he said angrily. "I'm very sorry, my dear. Bit of a cold fish, that one."

"No, it's quite alright," Hermione replied.

Draco patted her arm, and Hufflepuff grinned. "So, you're a Muggle-born, yes? Tell me, darling...are you loyal and hard-working? Do you possess immeasurable patience and a thirst for justice? Are you welcoming of everyone around you?"

"Or are you brave and courageous, willing to stand up for others and protect those closest to you with pure selflessness and nerve?" Gryffindor added hopefully.

Ravenclaw stifled a chuckle. "My goodness, Godric, Helga! You're both wrong. This one is clearly wise beyond her years and longs for never-ending knowledge. Witty and clever too, I might add. I can see it in her eyes."

"She's obviously not one of mine," Slytherin murmured. "I never thought enchanting that old hat of yours was a good idea, Godric, but even so, it had to be smart enough to keep her disgusting, dirty blood out of _my_ House."

Hufflepuff shushed him. "For the sake of everything that is pure in this world, Salazar, will you stop undermining this poor girl?!" she shouted.

Slytherin just sneered at her, refusing to say anything more.

Ravenclaw looked back at Draco and Hermione. "So, which one is it, dearie? Pray, do tell us!"

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but Draco interrupted her. "You see, sir, madams, Granger is a rare soul who possesses traits from every single house. She is brave and courageous, patient and kind, clever and intelligent, and oddly ambitious as well." He earned a glare from Slytherin at that. "But if I may be so bold as to interject my own opinion, I must say that the Sorting Hat couldn't have placed her in a more fitting house to match her character and values."

"And?" Hufflepuff asked eagerly. "Where did it place her?"

Hermione shyly glanced up at the bearded man on the far left. "I was sorted into Gryffindor House, sir."

Godric Gryffindor threw his arms up into the air, nearly smacking Ravenclaw in the face. "Huzzah! Another one of mine! 'Tis truly an honor, my dear!"

Hermione blushed a deep red color, and Draco slipped his arm around her shoulders. "She really is a wonderful person, sir. It _should_ feel like an honor to have her as a part of your House," he said proudly, making Hermione turn even more red.

"Wondrous!" Hufflepuff exclaimed. "You do seem honorable and brave, pet. We need more people like that in this world."

"I certainly do strive to be all of those things, madam," Hermione said nervously.

Draco gently planted a kiss on her forehead. "You're _already_ all of those things, darling," he murmured softly.

Gryffindor smiled proudly, and Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff exchanged thrilled glances, but it soon became glaringly obvious that Slytherin was not as happy as his fellow Founders. "Ugh, what's this I see?" he growled angrily. "One of my own, being affectionate with one of _his?_ A Mudblood, at that? What is the world coming to?!"

Ravenclaw placed a hand on his shoulder. "Salazar, you must not-"

"Don't tell me what I should do or feel, Rowena!" he exploded. "This truly is a disgusting sight. I would have thought my own House members would have more shame than this. Cavorting with a Muggle-born, of all people! Why, the _nerve_ of this boy!"

Gryffindor raised his famed sword to Slytherin's throat. "Salazar, enough of this. Leave them alone, I beg of you. This isn't the first time a young, pure-blood boy from your House has been romantically affiliated with a young, Muggle-born woman from mine, you know!"

"That was different!" Slytherin argued. "She did not _return_ his affections! That filthy, Muggle-born wench was nothing short of-"

"ENOUGH!" Gryffindor bellowed. Hermione's eyes widened; the room practically shook with tremors at the loud rumble of the wizard's voice. "Enough of this, you fiend! Stop with these horrid remarks or be forever silent!"

Slytherin said nothing.

"That's more like it," Gryffindor grumbled. He turned back to Draco and Hermione. "It has been a pleasure talking with you two wonderful students, but if I am not mistaken, the night has drawn quite late. It would do you both some good to rest."

"Yes, sir," Draco replied.

Hufflepuff smiled. "It's been absolutely delightful to meet you, Miss Granger, and to see you again, Mr. Malfoy," she said kindly.

"Indeed it has," agreed Ravenclaw. "We hope you will visit us again soon."

Gryffindor nodded. "And it's always such a pleasure for me to meet a member of my own House," he said. "You shall go on to do great things, Miss Granger. I'm sure of it."

"You all are so very kind," Hermione murmured. "It's been wonderful to meet you."

"Goodnight, dears," Hufflepuff chirped. "Happy dreaming."

Draco and Hermione nodded to her, and made their way toward the door leading out of the small room. As Draco ushered Hermione on, he heard one last quiet remark from Slytherin before the portrait was gone from sight.

"At least the Snape boy had enough sense to get _his_ Mudblood killed off eventually."

The door shut, and Draco's blood ran cold at the words of the old man in the portrait. Snape? As in..._Severus_ Snape?

He didn't believe it. He wouldn't buy for a moment that Snape would kill the woman he loved for any reason, even if the founder of his House _was extremely _prejudiced against Muggle-borns. To Draco, it would be more likely for Neville Longbottom to achieve an Outstanding in his O.W.L.'s for Potions, or for Professor Dumbledore to get rid of his pet phoenix and get a toad instead. He couldn't picture Snape killing _anyone_, especially not somebody he claimed to care so deeply about. The idea was completely mental in every which way.

Draco swallowed his thoughts as he and Hermione entered the west end of the Slytherin common room. He headed toward the couch and stared at it longingly. "I need to lie down."

Hermione took his hand. "Come lie down, then," she said softly. Draco watched as she laid down on the leather couch, stretching her legs out and leaning back against the pillows. She held her arm out to him, and Draco found that not one bit of him hesitated. He laid down next to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and leaning his head on her chest. The comfort that it offered him was unnatural, but he didn't care. As they laid there, Hermione began softly humming in his ear, and every last bit of stress and worry left in his body disappeared in an instant. He felt like he was floating on a cloud, devoid of all danger and concern. And as the evening passed, changing into night, they fell asleep there together, the Gryffindor and the Slytherin, with their hands interwoven.

Just like otters.

**A/N: I am so sorry for the late update. College is a busy time, and it's been a rough couple of weeks. But an update is finally here, and I really hope you guys like it! I really tried my best. I hope the idea of the Founders wasn't too lame, I just thought it would be kinda cool. Thanks for reading, and hopefully the next chapter will be up soon! **

**-BlackthornUnicorn98**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello, all! I am so sorry for the late update! Spring Break happened, and I had no access to Internet where I was, otherwise you would have had an update a week ago. Anyway, Part 1 of Day 4 is up, and I really hope you all enjoy it! As usual, I don't own the characters in this story, but I do own Gene Firandon and Mariana O'Neal. Happy reading!**

**IS IT LOVE?: A DRAMIONE STORY**

**Chapter 6: Photographs, Snowballs, and Sensible Suspicions**

**(Day 4, Part 1)**

_The storm clouds raged overhead. He'd never seen anything so ominous and so terrifying in all his life. It looked as if a tornado could drop down at any moment, ready to sweep away anything it could and destroy every last thing that was unfortunate enough to be caught in its path. He staggered about, feeling for his wand and trying to stay upright against the powerful wind._

_They were coming from all directions. Cloaked, terrifying, and nigh unstoppable, the Azkaban Dementors swarmed above him, screeching loudly. He covered his ears to escape the sound, and blindly ran forward, no longer aware of where exactly he was. He'd lost that sense a while ago, back before the sound of the screaming wind was too much for him to bear._

_Off in the distance, he spotted a thick cluster of black clouds. Thunder seemed to emanate from them, shaking the ground beneath him, and he fell to his knees, desperately wishing for it all to end. He looked ahead, and in the middle of the giant black clouds, he spotted someone. No, wait. There were two of them, he realized. His eyes widened in horror as he recognized the faces of his mother and father, utterly terrified by what was going on around them._

"_Mother! Father!" he cried, squinting and feeling the hot tears streaming down his cheeks. He'd never seen them look so scared, not even his father. They held onto each other, protecting one another. But he couldn't reach them._

"_Expecto Patronum!" he yelled, pointing his wand at a cluster of Dementors. Nothing happened. He tried to picture Granger's face to make the charm work, but all that was coming to his mind was his desire to save himself and his parents. Though, strangely enough, his shout didn't call any attention to him at all. The Dementors didn't even seem to be after him. But after a moment, he made the startling realization that they were all approaching his parents at breakneck speed, and he stumbled to the ground. "No! Stop!"_

"_Draco!" Narcissa shouted despairingly. "Help! Please!" She reached out for him._

"_Son! Save us!" cried Lucius. He continued to hold onto his wife as the Dementors began to surround them, and gave Draco a look that seemed to say, 'We trusted you. And you're doing nothing.'_

"_MOTHER! FATHER!" Draco howled, stumbling toward them. "DON'T LEAVE ME!" His mother shot him one last pitiful, pleading look as the Dementors finally closed in on her and her husband, and Draco could hear every one of their tortured screams as their souls were mercilessly sucked from their bodies, never to be recovered. Draco finally fell, landing on his stomach on the hard ground and crying helplessly. "COME BACK!"_

"_Draco!" a far-off voice called out._

_He ignored it, desperately trying to drag himself toward his parents with the little bit of strength that was still left in his body._

"_Draco, please!" the voice shouted again. He felt something shaking him._

_As the last image of his parents disappeared, Draco collapsed on the ground again , wailing, before…_

"Draco!"

He opened his eyes to see Hermione standing over him, her face etched with worry. He felt around him with his hands, but he didn't feel the ground anymore...instead, he felt the leather couch. He wasn't on the grounds of Hogwarts, in the middle of a tornado, surrounded by Dementors...he was in the Slytherin common room with Hermione, right where he'd fallen asleep hours before.

"What-what happened?" he asked breathlessly, forcing himself to sit up.

"You had a nightmare," Hermione murmured sadly. She placed a hand on his back to steady him. "You're safe now. That's what matters, alright?"

Draco shook his head. "But my parents, what happened to them?"

Hermione took his hand. "Draco, that wasn't real. It was just a dream. Nothing happened to your parents. They're fine."

A dam inside Draco broke, and he began to cry. Hermione cradled the frightened Slytherin in her arms, holding him close to her, while his body wracked with sobs for what seemed to him like hours. She rocked him back and forth for a while, softly whispering soothing words in his ear. He clung to her desperately, dreading the moment he would have to leave the safe haven that was her embrace.

After several minutes, Draco's pained sobs had reduced to dry shudders and rasping. He managed to choke out the words, "I'm sorry, Granger."

"Draco, you have nothing to be sorry for," she replied sternly. "Nothing at all, do you hear?"

He looked up into her eyes. "But, Granger, if I hadn't had a nightmare, I wouldn't have woken you up, and you wouldn't have had to-"

"Stop," she said. "Don't worry about all that. I'm here for you."

Warmth rose within him, and he managed a smile. "Alright, Granger. Thanks. I don't know what I'd do without-"

He was interrupted when Hermione suddenly pressed her lips firmly to his own, quite effectively cutting him off. It completely caught him off guard, but he sure as hell wasn't going to complain. Instead, his arms snaked around her waist and hooked onto the waistband of her skirt, pulling her directly on top of him. She sighed against him, which sent a multitude of excited shivers down his spine, and he kissed her with every ounce of longing he had in him. It was more desperate on his part than anything; after seeing his parents essentially dying in his dream, he couldn't stand to think about losing _anyone_ close to him. Especially not her.

To Draco's dismay, Hermione eventually pulled away, gently pushing his tousled hair away from his eyes and looking down at him with a soft, warm smile. "You're welcome," she said, almost in a whisper.

"Alright," he responded.

She grinned and planted another enthusiastic kiss on his lips before rolling off the couch and grabbing hold of her robe, which was folded in a pile a few feet away. Draco sat up, and Hermione handed him his own robe. "Do you think we'll be late to Potions?" he asked.

Hermione shook her head. "We've still got time. But not much, so hurry up."

The two sixth-years slipped on their robes and shoes before grabbing their bookbags and racing off toward Professor Snape's classroom as fast as they could. The moment they entered, the atmosphere completely changed. Both were getting knowing looks from their classmates, as well as a few giggles and a glare or two. Hermione sat down next to Parvati. "Good morning."

"Where were you last night?" she asked quietly, not even bothering to greet her roommate. "Lavender and I came back, and you weren't there, and you didn't come back for the rest of the night! What, were you and Malfoy shagging in the dungeons till dawn or something?"

Hermione's eyes widened in horror. "No, of course not!" she said.

"Then where did you go?" Parvati asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

Hermione was at a loss for words. She couldn't tell Parvati the truth-both Draco and Rowena Ravenclaw had specifically told her not to inform anyone of the location or the _existence _of the Founders' portrait. But she couldn't lie to Parvati either. So she murmured, "We went for a walk. Just like he said we would."

"I heard differently," said Parvati matter-of-factly. "There were some major suspicions that you two had gone off somewhere to make whoopee. And it wasn't just me, either. He told the whole dormitory."

"Who? Who told you that?" Hermione demanded. "Or do I even have to ask?"

Parvati simply shot an accusatory glance toward the front of the room, where Ron was fiddling with his quill pen. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I guess he really doesn't like that you're with the Malfoy boy."

Hermione was ready to jump out of her seat and beat the ever-living hell out of Ron for spreading the shagging rumor, but before she had a chance to do so, Professor Snape emerged from inside his office, looking extremely irritated. "Professor Dumbledore has called an emergency gathering in the Great Hall," he said loudly, immediately silencing all chatter in the room. "So today, I regret to inform you all that class will not be happening, and everyone shall proceed to the Great Hall immediately!"

He glared ominously at his students, who jumped from their chairs and scuttled out of the room. Hermione glanced back, looking for Draco, but he was walking in the opposite direction...directly up to Snape. Hermione didn't have much time to question it, as Harry motioned her out of the room the moment he saw her.

Meanwhile, Draco walked up to Snape, a look of concern on his face. "Professor, if you will permit me...I need to ask you something."

Snape regarded him with disdain. "There are more important issues going on at the moment, Mr. Malfoy," he scolded. "I would think a simple question could wait."

He turned to retreat back to his office when Draco, after making sure the room was empty again, spoke up. "Professor, did you ever kill anyone? By accident or otherwise?"

His words made Snape freeze where he was. "Mr. Malfoy, _why_ on Earth would you ask me a question like that?" he said slowly.

"I heard it from somebody," Draco replied. "And I wanted to know if it was true or not."

Snape swiftly spun around, and marched right up to Draco. "And _who_ is it that accused me of murder, may I ask?" he demanded, an icy edge creeping into his buttery voice.

Draco bravely stood his ground and stared right back at his professor with an unyielding gaze. "Salazar Slytherin."

Horror overtook the Potions Master immediately, but it was soon to be replaced by fury. "You found the portrait, didn't you?!" he shouted angrily. "How did you come by it?"

"Flint showed it to me before he left," replied Draco, trying not to flinch. "I've known about it for a few years."

Snape huffed. "There's a reason that portrait is forbidden for students to look upon!" he groaned. "There's a reason it's hidden down in that cellar, kept away from everyone else! And you're a fool if you believe everything that painting tells you!"

"Professor," Draco said carefully, "tell me the truth. Have you ever killed someone?"

"No, Mr. Malfoy," Snape growled. "I have never killed anyone."

"What did Slytherin mean, then? About you making sure that someone died?"

Snape narrowed his eyes. "Answer me this. Who exactly did the portrait of Salazar Slytherin _insinuate_ that I did, in fact, kill? Tell me, Mr. Malfoy. Now."

Draco hesitated before finally replying. "Someone that you loved, but who didn't return your affections. A Muggle-born woman. As I understand it, she was sorted into Gryffindor."

At that moment, Draco couldn't tell which emotion washed over his professor's face faster: guilt, rage, shame, or grief. Professor Snape looked like he could collapse at any moment, his face twisted in pure, indescribable agony. Draco had never seen him like this before; he immediately began to regret asking his question. He wanted to leave, but found that his feet couldn't move; instead, he watched his professor for a moment, waiting for him to respond.

Snape finally found the will to speak after a few seconds of dead silence. "Don't believe _anything_ that selfish bastard tells you, do you hear me?!" he rasped, the intensity in his voice making Draco shudder. "I didn't kill that girl. I would _never_. I-I made a horrible mistake. I put my faith entirely in the wrong people, and as soon as everything happened, I wished myself _dead. _I regret what I did, and I will regret it for the rest of my days. But I would never, ever, _ever_ think of killing that poor woman. She...she never deserved what she got. And I hate the role that I played in what happened to her."

Draco noted that Snape actually looked close to tears, and he stepped back. "I've heard enough. I'm sorry, Professor. Forgive me." And with that, Draco sprinted from the classroom, leaving Snape alone.

...

...

Meanwhile, in the Great Hall, confusion and concern was slowly washing over the students and staff. Nobody knew why they were there, not even some of the teachers, and people were beginning to worry.

"Why do you suppose Dumbledore called us all here?" Neville was asking.

"Don't know," Ron replied. "Do you think Professor Snape knew when he told us to come here?"

Harry shrugged. "I highly doubt it. When he told us that class was being cancelled, he looked more annoyed than anything. Like it was sudden, sort of an inconvenience."

"So what could it be, then?" Ron wondered aloud. "Change in staffing? Maybe Filch has gone missing? Dementor stuck in the Quidditch goal post? I wouldn't be surprised at any of those options."

Seamus Finnigan chuckled, and Hermione glared at both of them. "It's not funny, you two," she chided them. "Dumbledore wouldn't summon us here for an _emergency gathering_ if it wasn't serious. You know that."

"Blimey, Hermione," muttered Ron. "It was only a joke. You don't have to be rude about it."

"_Me?!_" she asked, unwilling to believe what she'd just heard. "_I'm_ being rude? _You're_ the one spreading false rumors through the whole dormitory about Draco and me!"

"They weren't false!" Ron argued. "I know exactly what you and Malfoy were doing!"

"You know nothing about us!" Hermione hissed.

"Both of you, shut up!" Harry said quietly. "Dumbledore's here."

As the Headmaster approached the podium, looking extremely worried, Hermione spotted Draco slipping into his seat at the Slytherin table. She noticed that he looked very distraught and shaken, and wondered if it had anything to do with his conversation with Snape. And as much as she wanted to give him a comforting hug to make him feel better, her rational subconscious convinced her to wait and find him afterwards to check and see if he was okay. With that, she turned away from Draco and focused her attention on Dumbledore.

"Good morning, students," he boomed. "I apologize for taking you out of your morning classes, but there is an issue that needs to be addressed."

Lavender smirked. "Maybe the fact that someone told him that cap with those robes was a good idea," she said in a hushed voice.

Ginny shot her a death glare, and Hermione elbowed her in the arm as Dumbledore continued to speak. "As you all know, we have received intelligence that the Dementors of Azkaban have broken free of the Ministry's control. And we have been assured by multiple sources that these creatures pose no threat to the existence of those who are not within the ranks of the Death Eaters. But today, I must inform you all, because you need to know the facts, that those assurances have proved to be folly. Someone has essentially died at the hands of the Dementors, an innocent non-Death Eater who did not try to provoke them."

Distinct murmuring radiated throughout the Great Hall, and Professor McGonagall tapped on her glass with her silver spoon to silence the voices.

"What in the ruddy hell?" Ron murmured.

"Ssshhhh!" Ginny, Harry, and Seamus all hissed.

"We are taking action as of now," Dumbledore went on, "and the safety of our students and staff is a top priority of mine and the Ministry's. But I must request that none of you leave the castle unless you being escorted by a teacher or another adult. Do not travel anywhere by yourself; travel with friends or acquaintances. Groups of no less than three. But to ensure that you are all properly protected, I would advise that you keep to your dormitories as much as you can."

He stepped down from the podium, and McGonagall stood up. "Your orders are to return to your respective towers immediately," she shouted. "Your Heads of House shall be along shortly to address you in person. Now, go on!"

Every student rose to their feet and clambered out of the Great Hall. Hermione scanned the crowd for Draco, and finally spotted him amongst his fellow Slytherins. He had his eyes on her, and the moment they had left the Great Hall, he took her aside. "Granger, before you go, I want you to come with me for a moment."

"You heard Dumbledore!" Hermione said frantically. "We have to go back to our towers."

"In a moment," he said. "I have something that might be of particular interest to you."

He took her hand and led her out into the snow, behind a wall where they wouldn't be seen, and produced a small, black camera from one of his robe pockets. He handed it over to Hermione, who ran her fingers over the smooth exterior, utterly fascinated. "This is a Polaroid camera," she murmured.

"Blaise's aunt gave it to him," Draco replied. "It was broken, and she told Blaise that if he could mend it, he could have it. But he's not ever really been one for taking pictures, per se, so he gave it to me after he fixed it up. I wanted you to have it."

"I love it," Hermione said softly. "I love taking pictures."

A smile appeared on Draco's lips, and he took the camera from her. "Would you like to take a few now? I'm not sure when we will get this chance again, you know. What with us being confined to the castle and all. And the snow is utterly beautiful, is it not?"

"It is," she admitted. "Oh, alright, but we must hurry. If I arrive back at the Gryffindor common room after McGonagall, I'm sure to be reprimanded."

Draco said nothing, and instead raised the camera up in front of them. He and Hermione smiled big, toothy smiles as the first picture was taken, and they continued on for several minutes. There were silly ones, serious ones, laughing ones, smiling ones, and one where Hermione was pecking Draco gingerly on the cheek. Photo after photo developed and printed out before their very eyes, and Hermione managed to keep every single one from falling down into the snow. As the last photo printed and Hermione plucked it out, she glanced sadly at Draco. "We'd better go."

"I know, Granger," he replied, looking down at the multitude of pictures in her hands. "I wonder, could I keep one of these?"

Hermione nodded. "Of course!"

She held out the stack, and Draco picked one of the more serious smiling ones. "I like this one the best," he said softly. "Thanks, Granger."

"No, thank _you_, Draco. For the camera," replied Hermione. "Now, come on. We need to be getting back." Though he was a little disappointed, Draco agreed, and the two took off running back into the corridor, holding onto their respective pictures as tightly as they could.

They parted ways at the end of the corridor, with Hermione sprinting up toward Gryffindor Tower and Draco heading down to the Slytherin dungeon. Hermione came upon the Fat Lady and whispered, "Verus Amore." The door opened, and she slipped inside.

...

...

The moment Hermione entered the common room, all eyes were on her. "Where were you, Hermione?" Parvati asked worriedly.

"I was with Draco," she replied. "He needed to speak to me privately about some things." It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't completely the truth either.

Lavender stood up. "You're lucky you didn't miss anything," she said. "McGonagall isn't here to talk to us yet."

"I gathered that for myself, funny enough," Hermione murmured icily. She sat down next to Harry on the couch and noticed that he was tapping his fingers rather quickly on his lap. He seemed extremely worried, and she nudged him. "Harry? What is it?"

He looked up at her. "Dumbledore said that we are the top priority of the Ministry of Magic right now," he said slowly. "But there's nothing that the Ministry can do to help us now."

"What do you mean, Harry?" Hermione asked.

Harry's expression hardened. "I overheard McGonagall telling Filch and Sprout late last night. But I didn't mean to eavesdrop. I was on my way to the library for a Potions book," he whispered. "McGonagall told them that the Minister of Magic was the man who…'died'."

Hermione's hand flew to her mouth in shock. "Harry...the Dementors killed Fudge?" she responded softly.

Harry nodded grimly. "Sort of. Apparently, he was trying to defend himself and his colleagues in the Ministry from an attack. Everyone else cowered in fear, but he tried to protect them. And...well, I suppose they didn't like that. So they performed the Dementor's Kiss on him. He's not dead, I suppose, but he's gone."

Hermione felt like she was about to cry. Cornelius Fudge had long been a prat, as well as an ineffective Minister, everyone knew that, but he wasn't a bad man. Since Voldemort had died, Fudge had established that he would do everything he could to keep the wizarding world safe, should another dark wizard attempt to rise up and take over like Voldemort did. He could be incredibly stubborn, sometimes going against his prior agreements with Dumbledore, but he would never intentionally try to hurt others. And now, there he was. An empty shell of a man, locked in eternal torment.

After a moment, Hermione swallowed nervously. "Did they take anyone else's soul?"

"I don't know," replied Harry. "I ran off before she could say more."

"This is awful," Hermione murmured. "What will we do now?"

Harry shrugged helplessly. "The professors and Dumbledore are going to do everything they can to protect themselves and us."

He patted her arm comfortingly, and the door of the common room opened to reveal a very obviously distressed Minerva McGonagall. "Good morning, students," she said shakily.

Every person in the room turned to look at her, anticipating her words.

"Because of the recent dangers, there will be new rules put into effect immediately," she began. "Every student shall be limited to one of three places in the castle: your classrooms, the Great Hall, and your own House common room. Do not travel between classes on your own. If you have no one to walk with, a teacher or staff member will be happy to escort you to your next class. And as I am aware that Dementors may possibly come knocking at our doors, you must take it upon yourselves to defend your classmates, should a situation arise."

A second-year named Mariana O'Neal raised her hand timidly. "Professor? How do we defend ourselves from them? Who do we go to for help?"

McGonagall smiled. "I believe many of you are familiar with an association called Dumbledore's Army."

Though a few of the younger students were thoroughly confused, looks of excitement appeared on the faces of many sixth-years, as well as several others. Ginny nudged Neville encouragingly. Dean and Seamus exchanged thrilled looks. Several Gryffindors looked to Harry, Ron, and Hermione, the three who had started the organization. After a few seconds of murmuring, Hermione stood up. "We'll protect those who cannot protect themselves, Professor. Harry taught every member of Dumbledore's Army how to produce a Patronus Charm."

"Quite impressive indeed, Potter," McGonagall said, sounding a bit relieved upon hearing Hermione's words. "You all will be responsible for helping your fellow students. The Patronus Charm is very advanced, and there are many here who are unable to conjure one."

"Professor?" Gene Firandon, a shy first-year boy asked. "Who can we trust to protect us from the Dementors? Who all was a part of this Dumbledore's Army thing?"

"Well, let's see," McGonagall said, thinking for a moment. "From Gryffindor...I believe there was Neville Longbottom, is that right? And...Ginny Weasley, Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, Parvati Patil. And Lavender Brown, I believe. Nigel Wolpert was the youngest, to my knowledge. And of course, Harry Potter, who primarily taught the members of the group himself. Ronald Weasley, who co-founded and helped run the organization. And Hermione Granger, who, if I'm not mistaken, actually came up with the entire idea herself."

The original D.A. members glanced around at one another. McGonagall sure had done a lot of research.

Gene piped up again. "But what about those not in Gryffindor, in case they're not around? What about those in Hufflepuff? Ravenclaw? Slytherin?"

McGonagall thought back. "Well, Ravenclaw, I believe was seventh-year Cho Chang. And Miss Patil's sister, Padma. Michael Corner, Terry Boot, Anthony Goldstein...ah, he's a character."

"Don't forget Luna Lovegood," Neville piped up.

"Oh, yes, Luna. Of course," said McGonagall. "And from Hufflepuff, I gathered Susan Bones, Ernie Macmillan, Zacharias Smith. And let's see...Miss Abbott and Mr. Finch-Fletchley. As far as I now, no member of Slytherin was involved."

Hermione timidly raised her hand. "Professor McGonagall, I know that he wasn't actually a part of Dumbledore's Army, but Draco Malfoy expressed his interest to me in learning how to produce a Patronus. He seemed pretty set on it...in fact, he may have already started learning by now."

"That's wonderful!" McGonagall exclaimed, giving Hermione a knowing look. "So, with all that being said, if a conflict should come up, and you need protection, turn to any one of those people. Many of your professors can produce Patronuses as well, including myself and Professor Dumbledore." She took out her wand and pointed it straight up toward the hanging chandelier. A pale stream of light shot from the end, and to the surprise of everyone in the room, a silver tabby cat appeared and began to run around the room, leaping over furniture and whizzing past students. McGonagall smiled as the students looked on in astonishment, before finally lowering her wand.

The tabby cat disappeared, and McGonagall put her wand away. "I should tell you all this. If the Dementors were to make the journey all the way here, you must prepare yourselves. Dementors are vicious, unforgiving creatures. It is imperative that you stay out of their way to the best of your abilities. Or you will surely be doomed." With a curt nod, she turned on her heel and strode out of the room, sharply shutting the door behind her.

"That was cheerful," Ron muttered, sitting down next to Hermione. "So, what do you propose we do?"

"There's not much we can do," replied Harry. "Only lie in wait, and hope they don't come to Hogwarts."

Hermione thought for a moment. "Dumbledore said that they were only after the Death Eaters," she murmured. "So what would bring them here?"

"She makes a good point," Dean murmured from the floor. "There are no Death Eaters here. So why _would_ they come looking?"

"Maybe they've got suspicions," Seamus suggested. "Maybe they're simply misguided."

Hermione curled her hands into fists, thinking back to some rumors she had heard about one of her teachers during Voldemort's first and second rises to power. "Or maybe they're not misguided at all."

...

...

The rest of the day passed fairly uneventfully. On McGonagall's orders, most of the Gryffindors stayed in the common room or their dormitories. Many of the younger students were too scared to leave, even with the prospect of food beckoning to them. The older Gryffindors spoke quietly amongst themselves, discussing possible strategies or plans of action that may help them in the inevitable fight against the Dementors that was sure to come. But they couldn't come up with anything that they knew for certain wouldn't doom them all.

Hermione sat in the library by herself, reading up on the Patronus Charm to re-educate herself as much as she could. Of course, with the act of reading about the defensive charm itself came the terrifying information about the Dementors. She forced herself to read on, remembering just how nasty of a creature the Dementor truly was. Hermione admitted to herself that she was very afraid; the idea of going against the awful Azkaban guards again was a nightmare, but she knew that it was her duty and the duty of the rest of Dumbledore's Army to protect everyone else from the vile creatures.

As Hermione sat craned over her book, she felt a tap on her shoulder. "Hermione."

She turned to find Harry and Ron standing behind her. "What is it?"

"We're going to Hagrid's," Ron whispered. "Going to see the you-know-what."

"Didn't you hear McGonagall?" Hermione demanded. "We're not allowed to leave the castle without an adult!"

Harry shot her a mischievous smile, and produced a large, brown, shiny piece of material from within his robes. Hermione's eyes widened at the sight of it. _The Invisibility Cloak_.

"Come on!" Harry whispered urgently. "We have to go before someone sees us."

Hermione surveyed the vacant library for a moment, before finally giving in. "Fine," she muttered. "But if we get into any trouble, it's on the two of you."

Ron and Harry shrugged in agreement, and Harry draped the cloak over them, easily covering them from head to toe. Hermione recalled that Ron had had a growth spurt in their fourth year, and in order to make sure that any part of the trio, particularly their feet, wouldn't be visible, Harry had enchanted the old Cloak to grow several inches on all sides. Now it effectively covered them all up, with even a few inches to spare.

The group of friends made their way out of the castle completely undetected. They did see Argus Filch and Mrs. Norris in the corridor, sweeping up dirt. Mrs. Norris' red eyes landed on them, but they couldn't figure out if she saw them but decided to do nothing, or simply didn't see them. Regardless, the old cat went about her business, and they escaped.

The snow had grown deeper in just a few hours, and Ron started complaining. "Why couldn't Hagrid do it himself this time?" he groaned. "Why did we have to come along?"

"We can ask Hagrid what he knows," Harry replied. "About the Dementor attacks, and maybe even about the Death Eaters. Maybe he knows if there's a Death Eater at Hogwarts. He's been around here a while, you know."

Hermione opted to keep her mouth shut as the trio continued on, finally approaching Hagrid's hut. "Hagrid?" Ron said loudly, rapping on the door.

A moment later, Hagrid opened the door, crossbow in hand. "Blimey, what's going on here?" he demanded. "Who are you? Show yourself, or I'll take you out with me ruddy-"

Harry yanked the Cloak away, and Hagrid breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing them. "Oh, it's you three. Sorry 'bout that, I was just, eh…"

"Hagrid," Hermione said sternly. "Misty."

"Right," the half-giant said sheepishly, grabbing a large bag of apples. "Let's go on, then."

He led them all into the Forbidden Forest. The snow was slightly less deep the further they went in, and Harry folded the Cloak carefully over his arm. "Hagrid? We have a few questions that we really have to ask you."

"You can ask, Harry, but it don't mean I have the answers you're looking for," replied Hagrid.

Harry nodded. "Yes. Um...well, to start, have you heard the news about the Dementors?"

"Yes, Harry, I have," Hagrid replied. "And if you're going to go off, asking me about them, I have to apologize, but I'm not very knowledgeable about those sorts of creatures. Bunch of disgusting things, I'll tell yeh."

Ron spoke up next. "It's not that, Hagrid. What it is...well, Hermione brought up an excellent point today. The Dementors broke free of the Ministry's control. They're on the hunt for You-Know-Who's Death Eaters. Yet, McGonagall and Dumbledore both said that there is a chance they'll come to Hogwarts. Why would they come here if there wasn't a Death Eater within the school's walls, or somewhere nearby?"

Hagrid sighed, saying nothing and squeezing the top of his apple bag tightly.

"You know something, don't you, Hagrid?" Hermione pressed. "You know there's a Death Eater inside Hogwarts."

Hagrid turned to look down at her as he walked. "See, Hermione, you have to understand. Any knowledge I may have about such a character is me own, and whether or not I tell you all the truth is for me own purposes."

"Does Dumbledore know?" Harry asked. "What about McGonagall? Snape? Flitwick? Does anyone else know for sure?"

"I can assure you all that Dumbledore knows the truth, which I still won't be revealing to you lot," muttered Hagrid. He came upon Misty's alcove and tossed an apple to the ground, luring the tiny hippogriff out. "And that's that. No more questions."

"Do you have any idea who it could be?" Ron questioned. "Who the Death Eater is, I mean?"

Hagrid groaned. "I said no more questions!"

Hermione, Harry, and Ron exchanged glances. They could all tell that Hagrid was far more agitated than he should have been, a clear sign that he wasn't letting on as much as he knew. As Hermione knelt down to the ground, Harry looked up at Hagrid. "Hagrid, please," he pleaded. "You don't have to tell us who it is. But tell us if Hermione's theory is right or not. We won't go looking for the Death Eater, if there is one. But we have to know the truth. Please."

Hagrid looked from Harry, who was staring imploringly up at him, to Ron, who was leaning back against a tree, to Hermione, who sat on the ground with Misty. He sighed. "Alright. I'll tell you. But you can't speak about this to no one else, do you understand?"

All three students nodded vehemently.

The conflicted gamekeeper continued. "I can't tell you who the bloke is, because I don't know. Not for sure, anyway. I have me own suspicions, though, that much is true. But to answer your question, Harry, yes, there is a Death Eater within Hogwarts."

"Are they dangerous?" asked Hermione. She stroked Misty's head and fed her another apple.

Hagrid shook his head. "Whoever they are, they're here for a reason. Dumbledore knows them, too. He knows who the Death Eater is perfectly well, and he still let 'em stay. Must be important, otherwise he wouldn't do it. Dumbledore knows what he's doing. Doesn't miss much, that man."

"So, the Death Eater..they could be _helping_ us?" Ron exclaimed. "Never heard something like that."

"Back when You-Know-Who first came to power, he had hundreds of witches, wizards, and all manner of dark creatures at his disposal," Hagrid explained. "But while some served him faithfully, others...well, they didn't. They were agents of sorts, feeding others information from within the Dark Lord's inner circle. And when the First War took place, many of these agents were either discovered and eliminated, or they cracked under the pressure. Except a few."

"One of those agents is at Hogwarts, then?" confirmed Harry.

Hagrid nodded. "Aye."

"But what's going to happen now?" Hermione asked worriedly. "Now that we know that this person is on our side, what will happen when the Dementors come for them?"

"As I understand it, this person is quite skilled in the area of defensive, dark magic," Hagrid replied. "They can defend themselves, I'm sure of it."

Ron cleared his throat. "Why wouldn't Professor Dumbledore tell us about this Death Eater?" he asked.

"I suppose he didn't want you all worrying," Hagrid answered. "Going looking for answers and whatnot."

"It's reasonable," Hermione commented, sounding a bit guilty. "Thanks for sharing what you know, Hagrid."

He nodded. "Of course, you lot. Now, why don't you run along? After the Headmaster's spiel this morning, it's not wise for you to be outside of the castle by yourselves. Go on, now."

Harry unfolded his Invisibility Cloak. "Will do, Hagrid. And don't worry, we won't tell anyone."

"Much appreciated," Hagrid replied. "Now, off with you!"

The students said no more, and raced off toward the castle, hidden underneath the Cloak.

As they exited the Forest, Ron spoke. "Who do you suppose it is?" he asked. "Someone that Dumbledore trusts, that bit is obvious. Someone who is learned in the magical arts, of course. Someone older."

"What about Filch?" Harry asked. "He seems the type, doesn't he? He's been the Hogwarts caretaker for years...obviously, Dumbledore trusts him a fair bit, if he decided to keep him on for that long."

Hermione shook her head. "Filch is a Squib," she replied. "Someone born of magical blood with no magical abilities. It would be physically impossible for him to be a Death Eater."

"How about McGonagall?" Ron guessed. "She's Dumbledore's closest confidante. And she's extremely powerful...it would make sense."

"Is she learned in the Dark Arts?" Harry asked. "She doesn't seem the type to me."

"No," Hermione said bluntly. "She can't be. What about...Snape?" She bit her lip, trying to act natural.

Harry shrugged. "Well, I suppose he is learned in the magical arts," he mumbled. "And he's powerful. But he doesn't exactly seem like someone Dumbledore or anyone else would trust within an inch of their own life. Know what I mean?"

Ron nodded, but Hermione didn't respond. She knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Snape was the Death Eater within the castle's walls. She'd heard numerous reports during the Second Wizarding War that Snape was indeed a Death Eater-turned-spy for Dumbledore, just like Hagrid had described. And she knew that he'd been after the Defense Against the Dark Arts post for many years, yet Dumbledore kept refusing him. He certainly possessed the necessary skill, yet why he kept being refused, she didn't know. Nevertheless, he certainly seemed to meet all the criteria.

Shaking herself out of her thoughts, Hermione coughed. "We can talk about it later," she said loudly. "Let's go on back to the dormitory. If McGonagall catches us, she'll hang us by our ears from the goalposts."

Ron and Harry nodded, horrified by the thought, and they went on.

...

...

As the trio stomped along through the snow, past Hagrid's hut, Harry decided to remove the Invisibility Cloak. The moment it was off, they all began to shiver, but didn't complain. They continued to trek toward the castle for a few moments before they heard a loud voice. "Oi! Potter!"

The three turned to look, and were startled to see Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and another Slytherin by the name of Theodore Nott, traipsing toward them. They looked as if they'd just come from the castle; all their school-bags were still slung around their shoulders. Ron grimaced. "What do you lot want?"

The group of Slytherin boys approached the trio of Gryffindors. "You know the rules, Weasley," Crabbe muttered. "No wandering the grounds without an adult."

"What are _you_ all doing out here, then?" Harry demanded.

"Saw a fascinating creature in the Forbidden Forest a while back," Theo replied. Hermione and Harry exchanged horrified glances with Ron, immediately thinking of Misty, before he continued. "Centaurs. Wondrous creatures. What about you three?"

Hermione stepped up. "We were with Hagrid," she replied. "Talking with him a bit."

"Is everything alright?" Draco asked, his voice full of concern. "Are _you_ alright?"

"Blimey, Malfoy!" Goyle groaned. "You're not still on about this disgusting bitch, are you?"

"Don't call her that!" Harry shouted, angrily charging straight at Goyle.

Draco leapt forward. "Potter, stop! Leave him!" He tried to grab Harry by the hood of his shirt, but Harry was too quick for him. He jumped on Goyle, knocking them both into a particularly deep pile of snow.

"Harry!" Hermione cried.

"Granger, stay back!" Draco yelled as he attempted to pull Harry off of his friend.

Theo clenched his fists. "Filthy half-blood, Potter!" he screeched, advancing on the two quarreling wizards. "I'll get you, I will-"

He barely had time to move further, however, as a giant snowball hit him square in the face with enough force to push him backward into the snow. The scuffle immediately stopped; Goyle pushed Harry away, and all eyes turned to Ron, whose snow-caked gloves were enough evidence to confirm that _he_ had been the one to chuck the gigantic snowball into Theo's face.

Theo scrambled to his feet angrily. "Weasley, you'll pay for that!" He and Crabbe charged Ron before a slew of snowballs hit them both from behind, sending them flying faces-first into the snow. Draco was both surprised and thrilled to see Hermione, who had not only thrown the snowballs, but was giggling as well, as if she couldn't believe what she'd done. Draco had to admit it; her laugh was infectious, and he couldn't help himself. "Granger, come here!" He scrambled after her, rolling up a decent-sized snowball and throwing it in her direction. She narrowly dodged it, jumping out of the way and grabbing her own snowball and aiming it straight at Harry.

The snowball struck him in the face, and he gasped. "Blimey, Hermione! I thought we were on the same side here!" he hollered.

She giggled in response, falling over in the snow, and a massive snowball fight ensued. After a few minutes, even Goyle, Theo, and Crabbe had started to enjoy themselves, flinging snowballs to and fro. For a while, Crabbe and Theo were solely going after Ron, who was barely able to protect himself, before they decided to turn on Draco instead, much to Hermione's amusement. Draco ran in horror, laughing all the while, before he was finally overpowered, knocked over, and forced to surrender. Harry and Hermione came to his aid, relentlessly pelting Theo and Crabbe with a multitude of snowballs and finally forcing them away from Draco. During the scuffle, Hermione tripped over a hard clump of snow, lost her balance, and landed directly on top of Draco, who was still laying in the snow. She smiled down at him and pecked him on the nose, which was now red from the cold, and he responded with a sly grin and a snowball directly in her face.

As Goyle picked up a large snowball and threw it directly at Ron's head, causing Harry and Crabbe to laugh uncontrollably, there came a loud shout. "MR. GOYLE! WHAT ON EARTH DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!"

Everybody froze where they were. They saw the figures of Severus Snape and Pomona Sprout coming into view, not far away. Ron clumsily jumped to his feet, shaking the snow from his hair like a dog. Hermione scrambled off of Draco, face-planting in the snow next to him, while Draco attempted to drag her out. Theo and Goyle stood up, pulling Harry and Crabbe up by their arms. They all looked up guiltily, faces tinged with pink from the cold.

Snape strode up to them. "Never, in all my years of Hogwarts-what were you thinking?! After everything that Professor Dumbledore just said, and you all choose to deliberately disobey him and your House Heads, even with such dangerous creatures on the loose?"

Sprout cleared her throat. "What Professor Snape means to say, students, is that you are behaving rather irresponsibly by not taking the cautionary actions that you have been instructed to take," she said calmly. "You all know very well that if you are to be out on the grounds, a teacher or adult must always be with you. No excuses."

"We were with Hagrid, Professors," Harry explained. "Over in his hut."

"Did he summon you there?" Snape demanded. "Did you go by yourselves?"

Before any of the boys could answer, Hermione shook her head. "No, sir," she lied. "He escorted us from the castle. Very kind of him, you know. When we decided to leave, we told him not to trouble himself with taking us back. Didn't want to bother him."

Draco stared at her, working hard to keep his mouth from dropping open in utter shock. She was _lying_ to one of her teachers...bald-faced, unrelenting, with no hesitation whatsoever. And not just to _any_ teacher. To Professor Snape! The professor she feared above all others. As his eyes searched her face for any sign of a weakening guard, she caught his eye and winked.

Meanwhile, Snape had turned to Harry and Ron. "Is what Granger is saying true?"

Harry nodded, and Ron smiled weakly. "Yes, Professor."

Satisfied, Snape turned to the four Slytherins. "Now, what about _your_ story?" he asked harshly.

The boys shot each other terrified looks, unsure of what to say. Goyle finally spoke up. "Well, you see, sir...we- we were just-"

"They came with us," Hermione interrupted quickly, causing all four Slytherin boys to look back at her in amazement. "We asked them if they wanted to see the book that Hagrid wanted to show us, _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. _There weren't any books on centaurs in the school library, and this one happened to have them. It _was_ centaurs that you liked reading about, wasn't it, Theo?"

He only nodded, shooting Hermione a faint but immensely grateful smile.

Snape looked from student to student, trying to decide if they were playing with them or not. He judged that by Professor Sprout's expression, she believed that Hermione was telling the truth. Finally, Snape caved. "Alright, if that's what truly happened, we'll let it go this one time. But next time it happens, it'll be thirty points off of both your Houses, and you'll all have detention. Now, you shall accompany myself and Professor Sprout back to the castle immediately." He turned to leave, with Professor Sprout at his side.

The group began to follow the two Heads back to the castle, and Draco whispered in Hermione's ear. "Why did you do that, love?"

"Why not?" she responded, shooting him a flirty smile.

Draco stayed silent for the rest of the walk back, glancing every so often at Hermione. He could see that his friends were doing the same, utterly astonished by what she had just done to save them from detention _and_ losing Slytherin House a fair amount of points. It look as if their opinions on her were slowly changing, and Draco couldn't have been more happy by such a prospect.

By the time they arrived back at the castle, Snape was cold and irritated. "Back to your Houses, the lot of you!" he shouted, waving them off down the corridor. All seven students took off, deciding that it wouldn't be the wisest idea to anger the Potions Master any further.

As they began to split off, Draco took Hermione's hands in his. "Will I see you around dinner, love?" he asked hopefully.

Hermione nodded. "Of course."

"Good," Draco murmured. "See you then."

She stood up on the tips of her toes and kissed Draco softly on the lips. Draco's friends glanced around at one another, not quite sure what to think. Harry couldn't help but smile fondly, while Ron simply rolled his eyes, but decided not to make some sort of snarky comment. Hermione and Draco waved goodbye to one another as they parted ways, with the former heading toward Gryffindor Tower, while the latter joined his friends and strode off to the dungeon.

...

...

As they walked, Theo turned to Draco. "You're really mad for that girl, aren't you?" he asked.

Draco shrugged, attempting to hide the fact that he was blushing.

"She seems wonderful, I have to admit," Theo continued. "You wouldn't think it from what you see of her in passing, but she seems like she's got a kind, brave heart."

"No wonder she's in Gryffindor," Crabbe commented.

Goyle rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. She may be all of those things, but you have to remember: this isn't real! They're still being influenced by that god-awful love potion. Remember the Amorticia lesson that ended in complete and utter disaster?"

"Amortentia," Draco corrected quietly.

"Whatever it is," muttered Goyle. "Point is, you think she's so great now, but once the potion wears off, what happens then? Things will go right back to the way they were. The way they're supposed to be."

The four boys entered the common room, and Draco glared sharply at Goyle. "I don't want to hear about this anymore," he growled. "I don't want to constantly be reminded that my relationship with Granger is...fake. I don't want to think about what's going to happen when it wears off. I can't...I can't imagine myself not feeling the way I do for her."

He sat down on one of the couches, and Crabbe put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Suit yourself," Goyle grumbled. "You two just need a serious reality check, and it's going to happen sooner or later. Might as well prepare yourself."

Theo looked up at the burly Slytherin. "Goyle, get out of here. Malfoy doesn't need this shit from you right now."

Goyle snorted and stormed off without another word. He nearly knocked over Blaise Zabini, who was exiting the boys' dormitory. "What's his issue?"

"He's a piss-ant," Crabbe said bluntly.

Draco shrugged. "He's trying to remind me that my...situation with Granger isn't real," he mumbled sadly, kicking the leg of the table. "Except...it feels more real than anything else. I don't know how to explain it."

Blaise sat down on the couch next to him. "Malfoy, don't worry about him. To hell with Goyle! He doesn't know diddly. Now, where have you all been?"

Crabbe smirked. "Snowball fight. With Granger, Potter, and the Weasley boy."

"You did what?" Blaise asked, clearly confused.

The mention of the snowball war brought a smile to Draco's face. "We saw them leaving Rubeus Hagrid's hut," he explained. "Goyle and Potter nearly got into it, could have been a serious squabble, too...if it weren't for Weasley and Granger, starting up that damn snowball fight. I think it was Granger who sort of turned the mood of the whole situation...I'll admit, it was pretty fun."

Crabbe nodded in agreement, and Theo spoke next. "Well, it was...until Professor Snape caught us." Blaise's eyes widened at his words. "And you know, the whole stink about being outside the castle by ourselves that they went over...well, we didn't have an excuse, and Granger ended up covering our arses. Pretty bright, that Muggle-born is. More than I would have expected."

"Sounds like quite the time," Blaise said thoughtfully. "Granger does seem wonderful, Malfoy. I may not know her well, but I've never seen you happier than you are when you're with her."

Draco blushed again. "She really does make me happy. And I suppose I just want to enjoy it while it lasts. There's no way of knowing when it's going to wear off, or if Snape or Pomfrey will come up with some sort of antidote. It could happen at any time. And I mean, we've been hanging out together a lot lately, but I want to do something really special for her. You know, while I still can."

"I understand, Malfoy," Crabbe mumbled sadly. "Maybe we can plan something for you two tonight!"

Draco straightened up. "Like what? Go on, I'm listening."

Crabbe grinned. "Do you remember when Potter was training that awful club with defensive spells and all that?" he asked. "Last year or so?"

Draco nodded.

"We could do it in that room that they used to practice in!" Crabbe exclaimed. "What was it called again, the Needy Room? Or the Come-and-Go Room? Something along those lines?"

"The Room of Requirement," Theo interjected. "I heard Professor Snape mention it in one of his lessons earlier this year."

Draco smiled. "Doesn't it only appear when somebody really needs it?" he asked. "And...let's see, it's always got what the person seeking it needs, right?"

"Exactly!" Blaise said happily. "That's why it would be the perfect place. We could set things up for you in there beforehand, or maybe it could just appear on its own or something. I'm not exactly sure how it works."

Draco stood up. "Brilliant! Let's go!"

The four excited sixth-years left the dungeons, heading off in search of the Room of Requirement. Crabbe led the way, trying to remember where exactly it was located, while Draco began thinking up ideas for his special night with Hermione. He knew that dinner was sort of pointless; she'd have likely eaten already. And it couldn't be anything loud, either. He didn't want anyone else barging in, wondering what was going on. It had to be something low-key, fairly quiet, something that wouldn't draw attention.

Then he had it.

"I've got it!" he exclaimed.

"Just in time, too," Crabbe replied. "I'm pretty sure this is it."

He motioned to an empty, uninteresting slab of stone wall, and Blaise and Theo looked up. There was nothing particularly special about this wall that they could see; nevertheless, they waited. And before long, a large metal door began to appear right before their eyes. It was tall, black, and somewhat intimidating, but Draco opened it anyway.

The room was dimly lit, but not in the way the secret passageway had been. It was more of a dark, mysterious hue, with emerald green curtains on one side and blood red curtains on the other side. Streams of light shone down on the marble floor, and there was a fireplace at the end. Draco spotted a piano on the far wall, and he grinned. "This will be perfect."

And together, the four boys began to plan discreetly, figuring out every last detail that would make the perfect night work.

**A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. I know I sorta left it on a cliffhanger, but I'm hoping to come up with some cool stuff that Draco ends up doing for Hermione. I will say this: Fred and George might just make a brief appearance in the next chapter, so stay tuned! Again, I apologize for the late update. Happy reading!**

**-BlackthornUnicorn98**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hello, lovelies! Part two of Chapter 4 is finally up! I'm so sorry for the delay! College doesn't leave me a lot of time for updating, but I did it, and I sure hope you like it! As usual, I don't own any of the characters, and there will be a bit of OOC-ness just like normal.**

**IS IT LOVE?: A DRAMIONE STORY**

**Chapter 7: Surprises, Dancing, and Brand-New Feelings**

**(Day 4, Part 2)**

"For the last time, Neville, I'm not going to tell you!"

Harry groaned in frustration as he trudged along toward the Great Hall, with Hermione, Ron, and Neville trailing behind him. Neville had apparently heard from a source he wasn't willing to reveal that his friends had broken the new rules, and was now chastising them and demanding to know where they had gone and what they were doing.

"You know you could have gotten Gryffindor into major trouble!" Neville exclaimed. "And with Professor Snape, of all people? What were you all thinking?"

"It's none of your business, Neville!" Ron muttered. "The point is, we didn't get into any trouble, and we're all fine. Isn't that good enough?!"

As Neville prepared to fire back with an insult, he was interrupted by Luna Lovegood, who came skipping in from an adjacent corridor. "Hello, Neville! Harry! Ron! Good to see all of you. Hermione, can I speak with you for a moment?"

Hermione shrugged, letting Luna lead her over to the window by the hand. "I'll join you all shortly!" she called to her friends. "What is it, Luna? Is there something wrong?"

"Oh, everything's quite alright," Luna replied. "But I think I have a way for you to woo Draco Malfoy, if you're willing to hear it."

Hermione stifled an amused giggle. "Really, Luna? Do tell."

Luna pulled out a copy of _The Quibbler_ from a pocket in her purple jacket. "Well, from what I've heard, people love learning about things that others don't know very much about," she explained. "And I, for one, don't know anybody else who knows a lot about Nargles, besides my father of course. But there's an article about them in this week's _Quibbler_, and you could read all about them. Impress Malfoy with your Nargles knowledge."

Hermione sighed. "Luna, no offense, but I don't think Draco's interested in Nargles," she said, hoping not to crush her friend's spirits. "I mean, I could bring it up to him, but it's very unlikely he'll be up to hearing about them."

"Oh, you never know," Luna said matter-of-factly. "I wasn't interested in Wrackspurts or Thestrals when I first heard about them, but now I find them both fascinating."

"I suppose," replied Hermione. "I don't know. I'll think about it, alright?"

Luna gave her a nod, and the two girls headed off to the Great Hall.

...

...

By the time Hermione arrived at the table, Neville was still trying to get the story out of Harry and Ron. "But how could he not give you detention? What, did you slap him with a Confundus Charm or something? You know the use of those sorts of charms on teachers is forbidden," he was saying.

Ron groaned. "Neville, we didn't do anything like that!" he grumbled. "I've told you! Hermione was the one who got us out of trouble!"

"How did you do it, Hermione?" Neville asked as she plopped down between Harry and Dean. "You had to have done something, cast a spell or-"

"I did nothing of that sort, Neville," Hermione assured him. "Perhaps it took a fib or two, but he believed us, and so did Professor Sprout. It's all over now, don't you fret."

Neville crossed his arms. "You won't do it again, will you?" he asked worriedly.

"If you stop asking," Ron muttered under his breath.

Ginny elbowed Ron in the ribs, and Hermione spoke. "No, Neville. We won't."

This seemed to make Neville feel much better, and he began to eat his spaghetti and meatballs.

As soon as Neville was distracted, Harry turned to Hermione. "By the way, Ron and I never exactly thanked you for earlier," he mumbled. "Saving our arses and all that."

"Yeah," Ron mumbled from across the table, his mouth full of food. "Quick thinking on your part, Hermione."

"Ronald!" Ginny scolded. "Don't speak with food in your mouth!"

"Alright, _Mother_, whatever you say," Ron snapped back.

Hermione shushed them, and turned back to Harry. "It was the least I could do," she replied proudly. "Truly, though, where would you two be without me?"

"Probably dead or in prison," Harry answered.

"Eternal detention," Ron wise-cracked at the same time.

Hermione snickered, and began to contentedly eat her noodles. As she did so, though, she began to notice something. Ron was sitting across from her as always, munching away, but Lavender was not with him. She was sitting further down toward the back, seemingly staying as far away from Ron as she possibly could. Now that Hermione thought about it, she did seem to recall that within the last couple of days or so, Ron and his girlfriend hadn't been spending as much time together as they usually did. And Hermione couldn't figure out if they'd been keeping their conflict a secret, or if she just hadn't been as observant as she usually was. Now that she thought back on it, she _had_ been spending quite a decent amount of time with Draco.

After making sure Ron wasn't paying any attention to her, Hermione leaned over to Dean. "Do you happen to know what's going on between Lavender and Ronald?" she asked. "I seem to have completely missed something."

Dean shrugged. "It started with that whole love potion incident," he replied quietly. "When it wore off, things were fine, but I suppose Ron has started to believe that she doesn't want to be with him anymore. He thinks she's after Harry."

"Which is absurd," Ginny added, leaning over the table. "Lavender is totally and completely in love with Ron, and he just doesn't seem to believe it. He still thinks she's got some messed-up feelings for Harry, like Dean said. Ugh, I love the boy, but he can honestly be so thick sometimes."

"Exactly," Dean muttered.

Hermione was admittedly surprised to see that Dean and Ginny were actually on speaking terms now, but she decided to push it from her mind for the moment. "Has she told him otherwise?" she asked.

Ginny nodded. "Over and over. But he doesn't believe her. He just thinks she's staying with him out of pity, and that she's actually been pining for Harry since that day in Potions. Which is completely mental. She doesn't feel that way about Harry anymore, I'm sure of it." Hermione noticed that there was a deep edge of pain in Ginny's voice, which only confirmed what she'd thought about her fifth-year friend since her very first interaction with Harry during his second year.

"It's all rubbish," Dean said. "Truly. But we'd best not get into the middle of things."

Ginny and Hermione nodded in agreement, and all three of them silently went back to eating their food as if nothing had happened.

...

...

For the rest of dinner, Hermione didn't bother speaking to any of her peers. She was beginning to feel emotionally drained, more so than she normally did after a long day. Nothing made her feel better at that moment than the thought of her warm, comfortable bed; she desperately wanted to snuggle into it with Crookshanks, curl up with a good book, and fall asleep by the light of the fireplace in her dormitory.

As she finished her meal, Hermione wiped her mouth on her napkin and turned around, intending to find Draco and tell him goodnight, but when she spotted him, her throat tightened. He was standing by the wall, clearly done with his food...and talking to Luna Lovegood.

"Oh, no," Hermione murmured. "Bugger all. Can I just burst into flames now, please?"

"By the name of Godric, Hermione, what's got you so riled up?" Harry asked, taking a sip of pumpkin juice.

"It's Luna," she murmured. "She tried to tell me a way to impress Draco, and I told her I'd think about it...there's no doubt in my mind that she's talking to him about it now."

Ron snickered. "Good luck getting yourself out of that one, Hermione," he said humorously.

Hermione glared at him, and noticed Draco and Luna saying goodbye, with Luna shooting Hermione a happy look as she skipped off toward the Ravenclaw table. Hermione groaned and left the table, walking as quickly as she could to get to the exit. The moment she was through the doors, however, she heard Draco behind her. "Granger? What is it?"

Hermione turned to look at him, a sullen expression evident across her features. "What were you and Luna talking about?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Well, for one, she told me to ask you what you knew about...what are they called? Nargles?"

"I told her I'd _think_ about it!" Hermione said angrily. "That didn't mean that I wanted her to bring it up to you! If only she would just listen to me-"

Draco slapped a hand over her mouth and yanked her into a nearby broom cupboard, shutting the door tightly behind him. "For what it's worth, Granger, I think it's adorable," he whispered. "The way that your little friend is trying to help you impress me, making you seem smarter and all that, when I already know that I've got the best, most knowledgeable girl in the entire world right in front of me."

Hermione slowly pried his hands away from her mouth. "You can't mean that."

"I can, and I do," he replied. "So deal with it, Granger."

Before she could stop herself, Hermione grabbed him by the hair at the nape of his neck and pulled him into a fierce kiss. He chuckled against her lips, inhaling her sweet scent and letting his arms cage her in. "That's what I thought," he murmured.

Hermione separated her lips from Draco's, and rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry, I...I don't know where that came from."

"Do you see me complaining?" he asked, a sly twinkle in his eye.

Hermione shook her head. "No," she replied. "Now, if you wouldn't mind, I have to get going. Got to get a good night's sleep."

She started to open the door of the cupboard, but Draco's sudden grip on her arm stopped her. "Granger, you're not going back to your dormitory right now."

"Why not?" she asked defiantly.

"Because," Draco whispered huskily in her ear, "I've got a special surprise planned for the two of us tonight."

She tried to ignore the shivers that his smooth, deep voice sent straight down her spine, and replied, "And you didn't think to tell me this before?"

"If I'd have told you, then it wouldn't have been a surprise, would it, Granger?" he shot back.

_He did have a point_. "Fine," she replied. "But I have to be back at my dormitory soon, alright?"

Draco only smirked in response. "Whatever you say, Granger. Now, if you wouldn't mind doing so, take my arm."

Hermione looked at him quizzically, but decided not to ask any further questions. Cautiously, she placed her hand on his arm, gripping it tight, and the minute she did so, the broom closet disappeared. Time and space seemed to spin around her, and she couldn't help but let out a loud scream of confusion and terror. And only a moment later, time stopped; she found herself standing in front of a large, brightly-lit building, bustling with activity. It took a moment before she finally found her voice.

"You just Apparated."

Draco's voice found its way to her ears. "I did."

"How did you learn to do that?" Hermione asked, completely baffled. "And within Hogwarts, of all things!"

"My father taught me during the summer," he replied. "He learned a loophole that not a lot of people know. It's quite a useful skill, I must say. But I don't do it very often. It sort of makes me a bit queasy."

By that point, Hermione was hunched over, bile rising in her throat. "I can't imagine why."

Draco chuckled, patting her back. "Well, here's the first part of our date, Granger. Bit of a surprise, isn't it?"

Hermione glanced up at the building on the corner of the street. There was a mechanical man tipping a magic hat on the front, with wide windows and glowing lights behind it. Hermione's mouth dropped open. "This is Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes!"

Draco shrugged. "I'd never been here before. Thought I might as well give it a try."

Hermione grinned excitedly, and tugged on Draco's hand. They walked up to the entrance, and pushed open a very noisy door. Hermione was thrilled to find that the joke shop looked the same as it always had, if not even better. She saw many of the same products up on the shelves, as well as a few new ones. The toy Umbridge on a Unicycle was still there, as were the tiny paper planes that were always flying about whenever she visited the joke shop.

As Hermione climbed the staircase, she heard a shout from above. "Oi, Fred! Look who it is! 'Mione Granger, right there!"

"You've gone mad!" an identical voice hollered back. "Bleeding bonkers, brother!"

Hermione looked straight up, and saw who she assumed to be the first Weasley who had spoken, George. His face lit up at the sight of her, and he scurried down the steps to engulf her in a hug. "It's positively plucking to see you again, Granger," he said. "Feels like it's been years."

"You only left Hogwarts less than a year ago," she replied. "Things have become a bit more dull since your departure."

She heard a screech behind George, and Fred appeared, riding what Hermione could only describe as a tiny scooter. "Granger, it _is_ you!" he exclaimed, giving her a hug as well. "You're taking care of Ronald for us, I hope? Heaven knows that little git is quite the piece of work."

"I'm doing my best," Hermione said. "But you know him."

"Indeed," agreed George. His eyes fell on Draco. "And what's this sod doing here?"

Draco rolled his eyes, and Hermione took his arm. "Well, actually...he's my date."

The twins were clearly not expecting that. George's hand flew to his mouth, and Fred nearly fell off his scooter. "What the bloody hell do you mean, he's your date?" he exclaimed.

"Just what I said," Hermione replied coolly. "Draco is my date."

"Are you drunk?" George asked. "Too much Firewhiskey, maybe?"

Hermione shook her head. "I assure you, George, I'm not drunk. I haven't completely gone mental, either," she said.

"How did this mixed-up match-up happen, then?" Fred demanded, folding his scooter up.

Draco spoke up next. "An incident in Potions. Cauldron of Amortentia blew up, covered us from head to toe. For some reason, the effects haven't worn off after three days."

Fred and George exchanged a knowing smile. "Seamus Finnigan?" they asked at the same time.

"Indeed," Hermione replied. "In my opinion, one of the best things that could have happened. I'll never hold that against Seamus as long as I live."

"You mean you've been together for three days?!" Fred exclaimed. "Why are we just now finding out? Does Ron know?"

Draco smirked. "He was there when it happened."

"THE LITTLE SHIT NEVER TOLD ME THIS!" Fred roared.

George snickered. "Well, as long as you're happy, Granger. Now, what is the happy couple looking for today?" he asked.

"Oh, just browsing," Hermione replied.

"Well, make sure to check out our school section!" George said. "We've got Skiving Snackboxes, complete with Fainting Fancies and Nosebleed Nougats!" And with that, he ran off, dragging along his twin, who was still obviously offended.

Draco looked around. "What kind of store is this, anyway?" he asked cautiously. "It looks like a huge death trap, if you ask me."

"It's a joke shop, Draco. It's not dangerous...actually, don't quote me on that," she murmured. "Now, come on!" With a huge smile on her face, she took Draco's hand and led him over to a row of tiny boxes, each with a yellow bird on its front. "Canary Creams? What are these?"

Draco picked up a box and studied it. "Don't know. It doesn't say."

"Fred?" Hermione called. "George?"

Immediately, both twins appeared at her side. "What can we help you with, Granger?" Fred asked.

"What are these?" she asked, pointing to the package Draco had in his hand.

George smiled slyly. "You can try it, Malfoy. If you want. We won't charge you for it."

Draco glanced up at the two of them suspiciously. "It won't...kill me or anything, will it?" he asked carefully.

"Of course not," Fred replied.

"Only on the inside," George added.

Draco glanced at Hermione, who gave him an encouraging nod, and he decided to risk it; cautiously, he opened the tiny box and squeezed a bit of the pasty substance into his mouth. Within moments, a gust of wind surrounded him, and he transformed into a yellow canary before their eyes.

The Weasley twins high-fived one another, and Hermione doubled over laughing, holding onto the bannister for balance. Draco looked up at her, flapping his wings. "Granger, change me back!" he squawked. "Please! I don't want to be a canary forever!"

Hermione giggled uncontrollably and reached for her wand. "_Finite!_" she exclaimed breathlessly. In a matter of seconds, Draco was back to looking like his old self again. There was a scowl on his face, but the moment he saw Hermione laughing and how happy she was, the scowl melted, and he began to laugh as well.

Fred plucked something off another shelf and handed it to Hermione. "Here. Put this on your head."

Hermione looked down at the odd-looking purple top hat that Fred had just shoved at her. "What will it do?" she asked nervously.

"Just trust us," George said. "Try it on."

Hermione shrugged and place the hat on top of her head. To Draco's surprise, her head and mane of curly hair, along with the hat, completely vanished. After a moment of silence, he heard her frantically ask, "What happened? Draco? What happened to me?!"

Fred sniggered. "Careful, Granger. Don't want to lose your head over this!" He laughed heartily, earning himself a punch on the arm from his twin.

Draco couldn't help the smile that followed. "Granger, your head's disappeared."

"WHAT?!" Hermione's voice shrieked.

"They're called Headless Hats," George informed them. "Great for scaring the knickers off of anyone you want. Just don't tell them what it does."

Hermione took the hat off her head, and everything above her shoulders reappeared. "Amazing!" she exclaimed.

For the next thirty minutes or so, Hermione and Draco wandered around Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, trying out random products at the twins' suggestion. Over the course of that half hour, they set off a mini version of Thor's Thunder Cracker, experimented with Sugar Hexes, played around with Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder, and even managed to control an Aviatomobile and scare the hell out of one of the other customers in the shop. They were having the time of their lives, and Draco had to admit that going to the Weasleys' joke shop was an excellent setting for the first half of their date. As the evening drew later, however, Draco decided that it was time to go; he wanted to get to the second surprise. "Hey, Granger."

She turned around, a black and white pack of glow-in-the-dark gum clutched in her hands. "Yes? What is it?"

"We need to get going," he said. "There's a second part of this date that I want to get to rather quickly."

"Alright," Hermione replied. She looked down at the package of gum in her hand, before putting it back on the shelf.

"You want that?" Draco asked. "I'll buy it for you, if you want."

"No!" Hermione exclaimed. "Don't spend your money on me, Draco. I'll pay for it myself."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Don't be an idiot, Granger."

"It's on us," Fred said suddenly. "Our treat, Granger."

"I can't let you do that," insisted Draco. "You've let us try out your products, free of charge. I'll at least pay for this." He took the pack of gum from the shelf, against Hermione's protests.

George couldn't help but smile. "Very chivalrous of you, Malfoy, I must admit." he said. "Four Sickles, if you please."

Draco handed over four silver coins. "Thank you kindly, Weasley," he replied, handing the pack of gum to Hermione. "Good day to the both of you."

"Bye, Fred! Bye, George!" Hermione exclaimed, giving them each another hug. "I'll see you two soon, I hope!"

"Of course!" the twins said in unison, waving goodbye.

Draco led an ecstatic Hermione out the front door of the joke shop. "That was so wonderful," she said, a glint of happiness in her eyes.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it, love," he replied. "Now, back to Hogwarts we go. I've still got a bit more in store for you."

She glanced up at him curiously. "What is it? Am I allowed to know?"

He shook his head mysteriously, instead saying, "Take my arm."

Hermione braced herself for the queasiness that was sure to come upon her within the next moment or so, and took hold of his arm. They immediately Disapparated from Diagon Alley, appearing in one of the Hogwarts corridors not five seconds later. Hermione found that she felt less sick that time around. "That wasn't so bad!"

"You do get used to it after a while," Draco replied.

Hermione looked around, and realized that, contrary to what she expected, they were not anywhere near the Slytherin dungeons, Gryffindor Tower, the Great Hall, or anywhere. In fact, she didn't recognize this corridor at all. "Draco? Why are we standing in front of an empty wall?"

Draco said nothing, and looked up at it instead. Hermione was puzzled, but as she stood there with him, the wall began to change dramatically. A dark, metal-like gate seemed to materialize from nothing, and Hermione let out a small gasp as the realization hit her. "The Room of Requirement."

Draco vaguely smiled, and took her by the hand as he opened the door. "Come on in, Granger," he said softly. "Welcome to the second part of our date."

Hermione was entranced by the fixtures around the room. She saw the soft rays of light shining down on the floor, and noticed the curtains hung on either side of the room. Gryffindor and Slytherin colors. There was a small table that sat on the far end, seemingly loaded with refreshments, and Hermione spied a grand piano as well. "Draco...what is all this?" she asked.

"Why don't you come in and find out?" he asked slyly.

Her nerves tingling, Hermione followed Draco into the Room of Requirement. The door shut behind her, and she approached the table of goodies. "Cakes? Fruits? Wine? Pie? Draco?"

He snickered, popping a couple of purple grapes into his mouth. "What, you've never had any guy do this for you before?"

Hermione cleared her throat. "Well...no," she mumbled, clearly embarrassed.

"Then any guy who you've dated before me is an idiot," he said bluntly, pouring them both a glass of red wine.

Hermione wrung her hands together nervously. "Draco…" she murmured, "you're the first guy I've ever dated."

Draco looked up at her in shock, nearly dropping the glass of wine he was holding. "Merlin's pants, Granger!"

For reasons she couldn't explain, his words made Hermione giggle. "It's true," she said. "I mean, I've gone on a date here and there, but...I've never actually wanted to _be_ with anyone. Until you. And I know that sounds completely hokey, but I can assure you, it's the honest truth. I swear it on the name of Gryffindor himself."

Draco took a sip of wine. "I'm sure that's a load of rubbish," he replied. "You've never wanted to be with anyone else? Thomas? Weasley? Not even Potter?"

Hermione turned red. "Well, I...I did go on a date with Harry once, during our fourth year," she mumbled, not daring to look him in the eye. "But it was more of a friend date. We just went to The Three Broomsticks for a drink or two and spent the entire afternoon talking. It ended with a peck on the cheek, and nothing more."

Though Draco knew that Hermione was his, and his alone, his eyes flashed with the tiniest streak of jealousy at her words. "But you never wanted to be with Potter?"

"No," Hermione replied. "I haven't. And besides, we're better as friends anyway."

"Good to know," Draco said, consuming another grape.

Hermione smiled up at him, gently pushing his hair back behind his ear. "Don't you worry, Ferret. I've got the perfect guy right at my fingertips."

"Happy to hear it," he replied. "Now, come on, will you?"

"Huh?" Hermione asked.

Draco took her by the hand and led her out into the middle of the room. "This is what we're here for," he answered, attempting to hide a grin. He produced his wand from his back pocket and flicked it in the direction of the grand piano. It began to play a soft, soothing melody, with just the right amount of regal undertones to it.

"Draco, what's this all about?" she asked.

Draco slipped his wand out of sight and placed his free hand tenderly on her waist. "I want to make this the most wonderful date of your life, and mine as well," he said quietly, bringing her hand up to his shoulder. "And what more perfect way to do that than to share our first dance together, with assurances that we won't be interrupted?"

Hermione blushed a deep, blazing scarlet color. "But I don't know how to dance," she mumbled, almost ashamed of herself. "Nobody ever taught me."

"That's why _I'm_ showing you," he replied, an glimmer of understanding in his voice. "Don't worry yourself, Granger. You've no reason to be scared when you're with me."

Hermione looked up into his shadowed, grey eyes, and decided to trust him. "Alright."

Draco smiled, saying nothing, and began to sway to the lilting piano music in the background. Hermione began to follow his smooth, effortless movements, realizing at once that she was far more clumsy and uncoordinated than she'd originally thought she was. However, Draco didn't seem to mind at all, and continued to guide her along with him. Every now and then, he'd squeeze her hand as a means of encouragement, which she gratefully welcomed, and she began to get the hang of things after a while.

"See, Granger? You've got it," Draco whispered.

Hermione fumbled through her movements. "It's a strange feeling. People make dancing look so easy."

"Indeed," replied Draco. "And they also make things like this look easy, too."

Before Hermione could even ask, Draco extended his arm and spun her around a few times. She let out an indignant squeak, holding onto his hand, before he finally brought her back in, a little closer to him than before. She stared up at him and mumbled, "Well, that was...rude."

"Exactly what I was going for," he replied. "But you didn't mind it, did you?"

"Actually, I did mind."

"Are you telling the truth, Granger?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

Sigh. "No."

Draco chuckled. "Thought so."

He held her close and they continued to dance together across the shiny, marble floor. Hermione found that the longer she danced, the more simple it became and the less effort she required. Before too long, she found herself feeling slightly adventurous...for her, anyway...and boosted herself up on her tiptoes, spinning Draco around a couple of times. He chuckled heartily, evidently very proud of her and a bit surprised, and she felt her insides warm with pleasure. To her, it was truly the best date in the history of dates, and she couldn't have imagined a better night with him.

As they danced, Hermione looked up at him again. "Draco? How exactly did you swing this?" she asked timidly, nearly stepping on one of his feet. "Did you do this all on your own?"

He shrugged. "Not exactly. I'll admit, I had a bit of help."

"From whom?" she inquired.

Draco smiled sheepishly. "From my friends," he confessed. "This whole thing was originally their idea, actually."

Hermione smirked. "I wouldn't have pegged Crabbe, Theo, and Goyle for the types to plan a romantic date for their best mate," she said thoughtfully.

"Actually, it was Crabbe, Theo, and Blaise," Draco corrected. "Goyle wasn't in on this."

A distressed look suddenly settled over his features, and Hermione frowned. "He doesn't approve of me, does he?" she asked carefully.

Draco sadly shook his head. "All he wants to do is remind me that what I'm feeling isn't real. He says that it's not logic, or fact, or even sincere; it's just part of my imagination. And because of the love potion. He warned me not to get too attached to you, because eventually, this is all going to be gone. And things will go back to the way they were before."

"I understand," murmured Hermione, a clear hint of disappointment in her voice. "But for what it's worth, I don't want things to go back to how they were. I don't want things to change."

"Me neither," Draco agreed.

Hermione's frown turned to a beam, and she gently ran her fingers over Draco's cheek. "So here's what we do," she said softly. "We go on, like this, as long as we possibly can. Forget about what Goyle told you. And when the potion's effects inevitably disappear, we cling to the hope that we'll remember this feeling, and maybe nothing will change at all."

To her delight, Draco smiled. "That sounds like an amazing idea, Granger," he replied. "I really couldn't imagine a better idea, actually."

He kissed her on the forehead, and the two stayed there for a while longer, dancing to the beats of their own hearts and the music of the piano, and never wanting the night to come to an end.

A couple of hours later, much to the couple's chagrin, they found that the night had gotten quite late indeed; the moon was high in the sky, shining through the clouds over the castle. Draco desperately didn't want to leave Hermione's side. He wanted to take her back to the Slytherin common room and lay with her all night, maybe out on the couch. Or better yet, they could have just stayed there, in the Room of Requirement, and they both would have been perfectly content. He knew that it couldn't happen, though, given the new rules that had just been implemented within the castle. It wasn't safe for either of them to be away from their dormitories for too long, he knew that. Nevertheless, he hoped.

"Granger?" he said, looking down at the girl in his arms.

"Yes?" came her soft reply.

"It's after midnight," he murmured. "We have to go back."

She shook her head stubbornly, burying her face in his chest. "I don't want to go back. I don't need to. We should just stay here, Draco. Not tell anyone else, and just hide. Away from all the Death Eaters and Dementors and awful people in the world. We could do it...couldn't we?"

As much as he admired her innocent imagination, Draco sighed. "I'm afraid not, Granger," he replied sadly. "McGonagall will lose her mind if you're not back at Gryffindor Tower soon. And so will your roommates."

She shrugged. "I suppose you're right."

He loosened his hold on her, allowing her to pull back, and she instantly began to shiver without his warm embrace. The two walked toward the entrance of the Room of Requirement, holding hands the entire way there. Draco flicked his wand at the piano, and it immediately stopped playing its beautiful, calming melody. As the doors opened, Hermione looked up at him. "We can do this again sometime, can't we?" she asked.

Draco managed a smile. He wanted to, more than anything. But he feared that at which point the time came, it might be too late...the potion could be gone by then, and they'd have no desire to share a slow dance and drink wine together ever again. Despite his worries, he responded anyway. "Of course, Granger."

"Good. I'm glad," Hermione replied.

Draco gently tilted her chin up. "Thank you for being my dancing partner for a night, Granger," he said quietly. "It's been most enjoyable."

"And thank _you_ for the wonderful date," she replied. "And for teaching me how to dance."

"Not at all, Granger. It was my pleasure," he said humorously, giving her a slight bow.

Hermione locked her arms around his neck and touched her nose to his, balancing on the tips of her toes. "I'll see you tomorrow, then?" she asked hopefully.

"You will," replied Draco. "That's a promise."

Hermione grinned playfully, and pulled him in for a heated, passionate kiss, sparking a fire within them both. The tension that had been building up between the two ever since they entered the Room of Requirement together was coming to a full-on head, and it was nearly too much for either of them to bear. Hermione wanted nothing more than him at that very moment, to kiss him and touch him and never let him go, and Draco began to seriously consider hoisting her up, taking her back inside, locking the door, and shagging the hell out of her all night. But though they were both overtaken with a sensational, overpowering feeling of longing that could have easily consumed them, they managed to come to their senses. "We-we need to go," Draco murmured breathlessly as he broke the kiss. "I...don't want to, but we must."

"I know," Hermione whispered. "I just couldn't help myself."

"Quite the little minx you are, Granger," said Draco. "But I wouldn't change that for anything."

"Neither would I," she replied. "Now, shall we be off?"

He nodded, looking upon her sweet, angelic face, with its many sharp curves and deep shadows that fell over it, like a mask. "Goodnight, Granger. Sleep well. I...I'll see you tomorrow." He mentally scolded himself for feeling the urge to utter something else...something that should not have crossed his mind while under the effects of a love potion that did not make people actually fall in love.

Thankfully, Hermione didn't notice how startled he'd made himself. "Goodnight, Draco," she whispered, pecking him on the nose. He did his best to suppress an outstanding blush as they parted ways for the night, both completely enamored by the evening's events.

...

...

An elated Hermione raced off toward the Gryffindor common room, eager to tell her roommates what had happened during the course of the night. She scampered past the Fat Lady, muttering the password as she went, and ran up the steps to her dormitory, bursting in noisily. Parvati looked up from her homework, completely startled. Lavender let out a surprised squeal, and Romilda gave her a confused look. "Hermione?" she asked. "Where have you been?"

"I was with Draco," Hermione replied dreamily. "We had the most amazing evening."

At her words, Parvati and Lavender broke out in huge smiles. "Oh, Hermione!" Parvati exclaimed. "You must tell us everything!"

Hermione plopped down on her bed. "Well, I was coming back from dinner, and he Apparated us to Diagon Alley," she began. "Took me to the Weasley twins' shop."

"I wouldn't have expected Draco Malfoy to have any interest in going to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes," Lavender said thoughtfully.

"Me neither," replied Hermione. "But he took me there. And we talked with the twins, tried out different Weasley products, and honestly...it was a really fun time. He accidentally turned himself into a canary!"

Parvati snorted. "How'd he manage to do that?"

"Fred and George told him to try the paste, but they wouldn't tell him what it was," Hermione responded, trying to hold back a snicker. "Guess he won't be doing that again."

"I'll bet my broomstick," Lavender giggled. "So, what happened next?"

The lovestruck witch leaned back, gazing peacefully up at the ceiling. "Well, we came back to Hogwarts for the last part of our date, which he didn't tell me about beforehand," she explained. "But he took me to this big room, and there was wine and food...and a piano, and beautiful curtains up on the ceiling. And, well...he asked me to dance with him."

Parvati squealed. "Oh! Did you?"

"What, are you mental?" demanded Hermione. "Of course I did! I had to tell him that I'd never danced before, but he showed me how to do it, and...oh, it was wonderful. He charmed the piano to play this soft song, and it was all so perfect. He's such a good dancer, too. Seemed almost natural for him. It took me a bit of practice, though. But we had to have been there for a couple of hours, at least. And we danced the whole time."

Lavender grinned. "And after your dance?"

Hermione shrugged. "We agreed that it would be smart to part ways for the night. You know, just so we didn't get into trouble or anything like that. Which I wouldn't have had a problem with, except that…"

She trailed off, and Parvati raised an eyebrow. "Except what?" she asked.

"I didn't exactly want to leave," Hermione mumbled. "Not after the night we'd had. And then I kissed him, and...I don't know what happened. I just felt this fire building up inside of me, and it was nearly too much; I've never felt longing like that before, for anyone. I couldn't ignore it, but I wanted so, _so_ badly to...I mean, the urge I had to-"

"Shag him senseless?" Lavender finished.

Hermione nodded guiltily.

"Well, why don't you?" Parvati asked. "From the way he acts around you, I wouldn't think he'd complain at all. He's completely and totally head-over-heels for you. So why don't you just go for it? If you want it bad enough."

"Yeah, but Parvati, it's the effects of the _love_ potion that's done this to us," Hermione huffed. "A love potion that doesn't create real love. Just infatuation. If we ended up..._shagging_...what would happen when the potion wore off? There wouldn't be anything there; no feelings, no desire, no attraction, no nothing. How awful would that be? For the both of us? Not to mention how awkward things would get. We'd probably make each other miserable after that."

Lavender shrugged. "I guess you're right."

Hermione curled her knees up to her chest. "I don't know what to do," she murmured. "I love being with him, and he makes me happier than I've ever been...but one of these days, everything is going to disappear. And he won't want to be with me anymore, and I won't want anything to do with him. How could those feelings just go away within a moment? The thought just makes me sick to my stomach. You know?"

Parvati smiled sadly. "Hermione, I've never seen a couple more happy than you and Malfoy," she said. "And even if the potion does wear off soon, it's not like you won't _remember_ that those feelings existed at one point or another, even though it _was_ due to Amortentia. Maybe that will soften the blow a little bit. Make it less rough on you guys, to know that you _were_ civil to one another and that you _did _have a connection of sorts. Know what I mean?"

"Yes," Hermione replied, starting to feel a little better. "I'll think on that later, but right now I'd better get to sleep. I'm honestly exhausted, and my head's starting to hurt."

Parvati and Lavender nodded without another word, and went back to their respective activities in complete silence. Hermione settled down into her bed for the night, pulling the covers up to her neck and nuzzling her pillow. She shut her eyes, willing her mind to stop racing with worrisome thoughts, as she drifted off into an uneasy sleep, wishing more than anything that Draco could lay beside her and make all those thoughts go away.

**A/N: Again, so sorry for the late update. I know Hermione's a bit out of character in this chapter, but oh well. It's for the sake of the plot, and of course, it's because of the love potion...just kidding! Also, I had to include a couple of happy scenes because there's a big bomb that's about to be dropped in the next chapter, and I wanted to give a few moments of happiness first. Not saying to who, but you'll find out. Happy reading, lovelies!**

**-BlackthornUnicorn98**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey, my lovelies! I'm not dead! Haha. As promised, here is Day 5, Part 1, bombshell and all. This is probably my longest chapter yet, so be prepared. Enjoy!**

**IS IT LOVE?: A DRAMIONE STORY**

**Chapter 8: Letters, Comfort, and Frustrating Study Sessions**

**(Day 5, Part 1)**

When morning came, the rays of the risen sun roused a groggy but oddly well-rested Hermione. Her thoughts from the night before had essentially dissipated; she suspected that the majority of them had come about because she wasn't thinking very clearly, as well as being purely exhausted from the evening of dancing with Draco. But as she slipped out of bed and began to dress for the day, she found that her fears were mostly gone. _I have nothing to worry about_, she'd thought to herself. _Any problem presents itself, I'll figure it out eventually._

Hermione eventually got around to gathering her school supplies, as well as greeting her roommates and conversing cheerily with them. Lavender spoke of her interesting dream involving an empty classroom, Seamus Finnigan, and a curious Cornish pixie who kept poking her with feathers, trying to persuade her to eat a Pumpkin Pasty. Parvati went on about how Dean Thomas, who had just recently broken up with Ginny Weasley, was now attempting to talk to her every moment he could. Lavender had squealed with delight, while Hermione wrinkled her nose; she simply didn't see Parvati and Dean as a good match, but tried to be as happy for her friend as she could.

The three girls eventually left Gryffindor Tower together, waving hello to several of their fellow housemates as they strode cheerfully through the common room. Hermione did notice, however, that Ron and Lavender exchanged steely looks as they passed by. She decided not to comment on it, and headed to Potions class with her roommates, becoming more and more excited to see Draco with every step that she took.

The atmosphere in the classroom took Hermione by surprise when they entered; everyone seemed exceptionally upbeat and lively, chatting amongst themselves and laughing together. Hermione did want to know what had everyone so happy, but she also suspected that the end of the week had more to do with it than anything else. Regardless, she and Parvati sat down at their desk and began to converse with their classmates.

Harry turned around to address Hermione. "Where were you last night?" he asked. "We lost you after dinner, and you never went back to the common room. Breaking the rules already, are you?"

Before Hermione could answer, Parvati spoke up. "It's none of your business where Hermione is and who-I mean, what she's doing."

"Parvati!" Hermione hissed, her face heating up.

"Hermione?" asked Harry, glancing at her uncomfortably. "What were you doing?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Parvati and I had a conversation last night," she muttered. "With Lavender. And I _thought_ we agreed to drop the matter, but apparently not."

"Oh, come on!" Parvati snickered. "You agreed. We never did."

"Parvati, I'd sincerely appreciate it if you would not bring up this conversation right now, while we're in the classroom," Hermione grumbled back.

Parvati just grinned at her innocently, winking at Harry and turning to get her Potions book out of her bag. Harry glanced at Hermione and whispered, "Do I want to know?"

"No," Hermione deadpanned. Harry nodded curtly and turned around again, not exactly wanting to face his best friend's wrath at that moment.

As Hermione opened her Potions book to the section on the different Draughts, she shot a coy glance in the direction of Draco, but instead was met with an odd sight.

He wasn't there.

Immediately, a warning bell went off in Hermione's mind, but she did her best to ignore it. _Don't worry, Hermione,_ she thought. _Everything's okay. I mean, he's usually not late for class, but he was up for a while last night, I'd bet. Maybe he's not well. Maybe he just decided that today's not a day for class. I almost considered that myself. Everything is fine. He's just fine. _

The door of Snape's office opened, and in strutted the professor himself, looking particularly irritated. This didn't come off as much of a surprise to Hermione; Snape was generally a grumpy person in his entirety. But she'd thought that even the Potions Master would have been a little more happy, or at least decent, on the last day of the school week. As he approached his podium, ready to begin the lecture, Hermione had a thought, and she raised her hand. "Professor Snape?"

"Yes, Miss Granger?" Snape drawled, not even bothering to look up from his textbook.

"Where's Draco?" she asked meekly.

Snape glared coldly at her. "That's not really any of your concern, is it, Miss Granger?" he snapped. "Are you aware of that fact, or do you simply find joy in knowing everyone else's business?"

Hermione lowered her hand. "No, sir. I'm sorry. I'm...I just wondered." She said nothing more and looked down at her textbook, incredibly ashamed of her actions. She felt her face heating up, knowing every eye in the room was on her, and mentally scolded herself for being stupid enough to say anything at all.

Snape, however, immediately regretted the unnecessarily harsh way he'd responded to her question. He knew that she wasn't purposefully trying to be nosy; he was perfectly aware that she was simply concerned for Draco. But he pushed his thoughts out of his head and forgot about it, speaking directly to his class. "Now, then. Today, we shall not be brewing any potions, but instead simply talking about them. Draughts, in particular. Now, who can name the two most commonly brewed Draughts in the wizarding world?"

After a moment, Hannah Abbott finally spoke up, but Hermione wasn't listening to anything she was saying. She stared off distractedly into space, watching one of the light fixtures swing gently from side to side, and barely aware of what was going on around her.

As Snape talked about the two Draughts and their main uses, Ernie Macmillan and Terry Boot began to argue over which one was the most useful; Ernie thought that the Draught of Living Death would be the most logical to have a large amount of because it could always help the drinker get to sleep; Terry argued that the Draught of Peace was a calmer of anxiety and stress, and by that standard, a much better option to have. The two continued to row back and forth, irritating Snape further, and he finally cracked, moved the two boys far away from one another, and threatened them with twenty points taken from both Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw if they spoke out of turn again; that easily shut them both up. Snape went back to the lecture immediately, keeping his eye on Terry and Ernie for the rest of the period.

Hermione sat restlessly in her seat, copying down notes as best she could and trying to listen to the voice of her monotone professor. She kept drifting off into her own thoughts, thinking of where Draco could be and how he was doing; she really hoped that he was alright. But as she continued to wonder to herself, a folded-up piece of parchment landing on her desk snapped her out of her thoughts.

Curiously, after making sure that Snape's attention was elsewhere, she unfolded it.

**Hogsmeade after lunch with Ron and me? -Harry**

Hermione smirked to herself. Harry and Ron were _always_ wanting her to go with them to Hogsmeade. She sighed and wrote a quick response back to him.

**Sounds great. -Hermione**

She folded the note back up and poked Harry in the shoulder. He took it and unfolded it quietly at his desk; Hermione smiled. No matter how many times Harry and Ron persuaded her to go to Hogsmeade with them, it would never get old.

...

...

The rest of the class period passed rather slowly. Hermione ended up giving up, and laying her head down on her desk. Parvati eyed her, obviously concerned; that wasn't really like Hermione, to stop paying attention to the lesson halfway through. Nevertheless, she didn't bother saying anything.

Hermione was extremely happy when class finally ended. She bounded out of the room, with Harry and Ron attempting to follow her as quickly as they could. She skipped into the Great Hall, waving to McGonagall as she sat down at the Gryffindor table. Harry plopped down beside her a few moments later. "You seem especially cheerful this morning," he said, shooting her a suspicious look.

She shrugged. "I woke up feeling well-rested, I suppose. And I was desperate to get out of Potions. Snape's voice was putting me to sleep, I've got to be honest."

"I hear that," Ron agreed, sitting down in his usual spot. "And that row about the Draughts? He should have been _happy_ that his students were conversing so intensely about the subject matter that he was teaching."

Harry stifled a snicker. "Ron, Ernie threatened to stick Terry with quills and turn him into a talking pumpkin if he didn't give up the argument!" he reminded his friend. "I'd reckon that's what Snape was more upset about."

"I'll have to agree with Harry on this one, Ron," Hermione said apologetically. "And the fact that neither of them exactly had permission to speak in the first place, you know?"

Ron shrugged, taking a piece of cherry pie and shoving half of it into his mouth.

They were soon joined by their fellow Gryffindors, who all seemed especially lighthearted and cheery that morning. Hermione grinned and eagerly dug into her own food, relishing the sweet taste of steak that danced across her tongue.

After a while, Hermione started listening to an uninteresting conversation between Neville, Harry, and Seamus about the two rolls of parchment over the Draughts that Snape had talked about when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned excitedly, hoping to see Draco, but instead her eyes fell on Blaise. He looked particularly worried about something, and Hermione felt her heart skip a beat.

"Hey, Granger," he mumbled. "I wonder...would you be willing to come with me for a moment?"

"She doesn't have to go anywhere with you, Zabini," Ron growled.

"What do you want, anyway?" asked Harry.

Blaise's face hardened. "It's none of your business, Potter," he said crossly. "Granger?"

Every Gryffindor in Hermione's vicinity shot her a warning look, but something about Blaise's expression told her that something was seriously wrong. "Alright. I'll be back soon, Harry, Ron," she said apologetically. And before either of her friends could protest further, Hermione stood up and followed Blaise from the Great Hall. "What's going on?" she asked. "Is everything alright?"

Blaise sped up, with Hermione struggling to keep time with him. "Things were fine last night," he murmured absently, rounding a corner. "He came back, telling us about your date, and he seemed so happy. He _was_ happy."

Hermione felt her heart start to pound. "Wait. This is about Draco?"

He nodded solemnly. "He talked with us for a bit, me, Crabbe, and Theo. And we were so happy for him, too. Everything was great, I'll be the first to say it. But this morning…"

"What happened this morning?" Hermione demanded.

Blaise sighed, his words clearly paining him. "I came out of the dormitory a bit earlier than usual. He was sitting on the couch, with a piece of parchment in his hand," he explained. "He looked...I don't exactly know how to describe it. Shocked, I suppose. No emotion at all. He looked like a statue."

Hermione frowned. "Was he up all night?"

"No," Blaise replied. "After he told us about how the date went, we all fell asleep. It was pretty late when he got back. But anyway, I asked him if he was alright and if he wanted to talk. He shrugged, so I took that as a yes and went back inside the dormitory to get my jacket. Our common room is bitter cold sometimes, let me tell you. But when I came back, he was gone. I have an idea as to where he's at, but I don't know if I'm the right person to try to comfort him or do something to try and help him with whatever is going on. You two have a far different relationship."

"I'm not sure what I can do to help," Hermione murmured sadly. "Do you know what happened?"

Blaise shook his head. "I never got the chance to ask."

He led Hermione down the hallway and up a long, wooden flight of steps that trailed up into a tall tower on the western side of the castle, and she instantly recognized where they were going. "The Astronomy Tower?"

"He used to sneak up here all the time and do his homework," Blaise replied softly. "It was the only place he could have some peace and quiet. No one ever comes up here, save for class."

Hermione nodded as she climbed the old, rickety steps, taking in the silence and the breeze wafting in through the windows. If Draco needed some quiet time, there was nowhere better to go than this place.

They finally reached the top of the staircase, and Hermione spotted Draco, looking out the window. He had his back turned to them, but she immediately noticed a strange air about him that she'd never really experienced before. He seemed to radiate distress. In his hand was a slip of parchment, clearly the one that Blaise had caught him with that morning.

Blaise stared sadly at Draco for a moment, before turning to Hermione. "Good luck. Let me know if I can do anything to help," he whispered.

Hermione gave him a nod, and he disappeared back down the steps of the Astronomy Tower. She took a deep breath and approached Draco slowly, not wanting to startle him. He looked deeply concentrated on something as she stepped up beside him and laid her gaze upon his face, which was twisted and warped with despair.

He'd been crying.

"Draco?" she said softly, touching his arm.

"Granger." His voice came out in a quiet but harsh croak, broken and raw. And he wouldn't even look at her as he said it.

After hesitating for a moment, she spoke again. "Draco, what's going on? You weren't in Potions today, and Blaise said that you were acting odd this morning."

"I wasn't," he rasped. "Nothing is wrong."

Hermione noticed that as he said those words, the hand that was holding the parchment clenched. And though she normally wouldn't have done so without his permission, she gently eased it from his fingers. He made no move to stop her.

She gingerly smoothed out the half that was now wrinkled, and held it up higher so she could read it. It was a letter, eloquently written in fancy, cursive handwriting. From the Ministry of Magic. She took a sharp breath in as her eyes skimmed over the page.

**Dear Mr. Draco Malfoy,**

**Good day to you, young man. I hope that your schooling is going well, and that you are enjoying your sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.**

**I must regret to inform you, Mr. Malfoy, of an extremely unfortunate event indeed. As you may or may not be aware, there have been some conflicts that have arisen with the Dementors of Azkaban, as of late. We are doing our best to resolve the issue, but unfortunately, problems like this do not come without negative effects.**

**I'm very sorry that you must find out in a letter, rather than in person, but there was some unusually suspicious activity at your estate recently. We sent our finest Aurors to investigate, and they brought back multiple confirmed reports that your mother and father, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, have essentially died in a skirmish with these Dementors. We are working feverishly to locate these creatures, and will notify you if there are any new developments. As for funeral arrangements, they have not yet been made. Your father's body was recovered in the house, but your mother's was not, and we do not know the whereabouts of her remains; this will be a continuing search on our part. Her wand, however, was found in the master bedroom. If you so choose, you may arrange a ceremony for them with all expenses covered, and we will be in contact with you about other estate and financial issues.**

**We wish you the very best in these troubled times, Mr. Malfoy. Do not hesitate to reach out to us if you require anything at all. Hoping you are well.**

**Mafalda Hopkirk, Improper Use of Magic Office**

Hermione's hands shook as she lowered the upsetting letter. "Draco."

"I could have done something," he said quietly. "I could have saved them."

Hermione laid a hand on his arm again. "There was nothing you could have done."

Something inside Draco snapped, and he turned his gaze on her; she could see the unmistakable pain in his eyes, as well as the fire slowly burning him from the inside. "I could have been there!" he bellowed, repeatedly punching his fist into the stone wall in anger. "I could have protected them both! If I'd just trusted my instincts and never came back to this blasted school, they would be alive! They wouldn't have suffered a fate more horrid than death. They wouldn't be trapped in a state of eternal torture, never to find reprieve! They wouldn't be dead! It's all my fault, Granger! Everything is my fault!"

Hermione set the letter aside and took Draco's hand, which was now scratched up and bloodied. She produced a spare cloth from her bag and began to wipe the blood away from the raw skin, speaking softly as she did so. "Draco, there wasn't anything you could have done. You would have suffered the same fate as they did. There is only one charm available to protect one from the Dementors, and you wouldn't have known it. You would have been just as worse off as your parents."

"I've never been without them," Draco muttered, looking out over the grounds of Hogwarts. "And now, I'll never get to say goodbye. I can't be without them, Granger. I...I can't."

Hermione was at a loss. She'd never been without her parents herself, and she couldn't imagine what Draco was going through and how quickly his whole world had changed for the worse. And she knew that no matter how many times she tried to convince him otherwise, he would still think that his parents' demise was his own fault. Nothing would change the stubborn Slytherin's mind. She finished wiping the blood from his knuckle and wrapped it up. "Draco, you know what you have to do, don't you?"

For the first time since she'd arrived, he looked at her with an expression of something other than pain or anguish. He let go of his anger for a moment, and squeaked out, "What?"

She brushed a lock of white-blonde hair out of his eyes, letting her fingertips linger. "Dumbledore said that more likely than not, the Dementors will end up coming here, to Hogwarts," she whispered. "And you're one of the few people who possesses at least a little bit of knowledge of the only charm to repel them."

"So what?" he demanded.

"You weren't able to save your parents, but you can save so many other people," she said carefully. "So many younger kids here don't know how to shield themselves or others from the Dementors, you know that. Please help us protect them. You're a powerful wizard, Draco. Now use that power to defend those who are not able to do it themselves. Don't let any families collapse with the loss of their children."

A single tear escaped from the corner of Draco's eye. "I don't know, Granger," he mumbled. "I mean, I've cast a Patronus one time. And that was without a Dementor. It's going to be so different when I'm out in the thick of things, with Dementors at every turn."

To Draco's surprise, Hermione's face lit up in astonishment. "If you've already managed to cast a Patronus once, it'll be ten times easier the second time around," she encouraged. "I have faith in your abilities, Draco. Please don't give up."

He still looked extremely conflicted, and Hermione couldn't exactly blame him. But as she watched, a slow smile became visible on his pale face. "If it's that important to you, Granger, I won't give up just yet. Just know that I'm doing this because of you. _For_ you. Otherwise…"

"Don't just do it for me," Hermione said sternly. "Do it because you know it's the right thing to do. And do it because there are people here who need you. They _need_ your help, your protection. The rest of Dumbledore's Army has established that we're willing to do whatever it takes to protect the younger students from the Dementors as much as we can."

He lowered his eyes. "What if I can't do it?" he murmured.

"Draco, please listen to me," Hermione said quietly, curling her fingers around his wrist and looking him right in the eyes. "The Dementors are vicious, merciless beings. They took your parents away. They might not have been completely innocent, but they were probably unarmed and unprepared. And they'll be coming here soon to prey on more defenseless people. Avenge what your parents' death has purchased. Don't let another life fall to those dark creatures. It's just not worth it."

He looked into the deep, brown eyes of the girl he cared for so very much, the girl who was standing there with him, trying to help him put his broken pieces back together. She'd been the first person that he wanted to see, and the only person he'd wanted to talk to. He wasn't able to form the words to ask her for help, but here she was, offering it to him herself.

"Alright, Granger. I'll do it."

She smiled proudly. "Good."

And before she knew it, he'd wrapped his arms around her in a desperate hug. She held onto him, making sure that he knew she was real, and that she wouldn't be leaving anytime soon. Eventually, a floodgate of emotion overtook him, and he began to weep silently into her shoulder, sinking down to the floor under the weight of his torn-up world. She went right along with him, never for a moment letting go of the broken boy cradled in her arms. As she stroked his hair and pain welled up inside her chest, she heard him let out a soft whimper. "I want my mum."

A tear cascaded down Hermione's own cheek, and she hugged him a little tighter than before. "I know, darling. I know."

...

...

Ron had never been one to be patient...all his friends knew that about him. He sat in the Gryffindor common room with Harry, Neville, and Dean, tapping his feet anxiously and twirling a quill pen around his fingers. Harry had told him after class that Hermione was going to come with them to Hogsmeade, but she hadn't shown up for hours. And he couldn't have been more terrified by the thought of her being alone with Blaise Zabini, one of the Slytherin gits that he and Harry distrusted the most.

"Where in the bloody hell is she?!" he grumbled.

Harry sighed. "I don't know. But whatever happened, it must have been important."

"What could Zabini have possibly told her that would make her ditch us cold like this?" Ron demanded. "Do you think he hurt her or something?"

"He wouldn't do that," Harry mumbled. "With how close he is to Malfoy? He wouldn't do anything to hurt Hermione. Or else he'd probably have to deal with the arse-kicking of his life."

Ron thought for a moment, stretching his legs out on a small, red stool. "Has it ever occured to you that Malfoy could be faking all of this?" he asked. "The whole love potion thing? Maybe he's just pretending to like her so that he can humiliate her later. Think of how torn-up she'd be."

"I don't want to think about anything like that happening to Hermione," Dean murmured. "Getting your heart broken is awful."

"It is," Harry agreed. "Truly. But there's nothing we can do about it right now. Not until she comes back."

Neville spoke up next. "Or maybe we could go look for her?"

Harry looked around at his friends. "But we have no idea where she could be. Where would we even start? Anyone, any suggestions?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "The Slytherin common room?"

As much as Harry wanted to argue, he knew that Ron's guess was a likely possibility indeed. "Alright," he muttered. "Let's go, shall we, gents?"

The other three nodded, and got up to leave. Harry led the way, walking quickly to get to the door. He didn't exactly want to admit it, but he was more worried about Hermione than he'd bothered to let on. There was no single ounce of his being that believed Malfoy would do something to hurt her. He wasn't worried about that. But the same thought still nagged in the back of his mind, the same thought that he'd been having since the Potions incident: once the potion's effects were gone, things would go back to how they were. And Hermione could very well be left with a broken heart by the time everything was over. She wouldn't be as happy as she seemed to be now, and Harry desperately wanted her to be happy, to _stay_ happy. And if that meant she was with Draco Malfoy, then so be it.

As they marched down the brightly lit corridor, Ron let out an indignant huff, and an angry scowl appeared across his lips. "Bloody hell," he murmured, snapping Harry out of his thoughts.

Ron's companions glanced up, and knew immediately why he was so pissed off. In the distance, they saw Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil, and Ginny Weasley, laughing and talking together. And to Lavender's right was a clearly amused Seamus Finnigan, hanging on her every word.

The moment Lavender laid eyes on Ron, her expression clouded; Ginny and Parvati seemed to notice it too, because they both immediately stopped talking. Ron strode up to Lavender, ignoring his roommates' pleas to stay where he was and not make a complete arse of himself. "Hello, Lav. And what, may I inquire, is going on here?"

"What's it to you, Weasley?" Parvati snapped.

Ginny hushed her, and Lavender spoke. "Coming back from Arithmancy," she explained. "Had a fun time, I suppose."

"And what's _he_ doing here?" Ron demanded, gesturing to Seamus.

Lavender shrugged. "He was going to come back to the common room with us. To help me study for the Potions exam in a few days-"

"And that's all?" the redhead interrupted.

Parvati and Ginny exchanged horrified glances, and Lavender sighed. "Ron, I've actually been talking to him quite a lot recently," she mumbled. "He's been-I don't know, helping me through some things."

Ron's eyes narrowed. "Oh, and I suppose you've _fallen_ for him now, too, have you?" he asked, the tone of his voice growing angrier and angrier with every word that escaped his mouth.

Again, Lavender shrugged. "When I have a boyfriend who will barely speak to me or make me feel like I'm wanted, sometimes I feel as if I must look for affection somewhere else."

Harry and Dean looked at each other in terror, and Ron huffed. "It's not my fault, you know."

"What part of all this isn't your fault?" Lavender shouted. "You're the one who's been freezing me out! You're the one who refuses to speak to me! You're the one who treats me as if I'm an outcast, or someone who simply doesn't belong! I cared for you, Ronald! I did! I wanted things to work between us!"

Ron pursed his lips stubbornly. "Obviously not, or you wouldn't be going around pursuing my closest friends."

Behind him, Neville gasped softly.

"My, you're more thick than I thought!" growled Lavender. "You _know_ that the incident in Potions was not my doing!"

"Of course not," Ron replied. "It was _his_ doing." His eyes settled on Seamus again, whose glare had become quite steely in the past minute or two.

"Ron," Harry warned. "We have to go. Come on."

Ron ignored him. "I can't believe you. First Harry, and now Seamus. What's next, Lav? You going to ask one of my brothers for a romp in the sack, huh?"

Lavender exploded. "Ronald Weasley, you are utterly IMPOSSIBLE! A dunderheaded, idiotic, completely mental, bubble-brained, arrogant, twaddle-fu-"

Ginny stepped forward and clamped a hand over her friend's mouth. "That's enough out of you. Ronald, you would do well to leave us alone. And that goes for the rest of you as well. You're not making things any easier by being here." She took Lavender's arm and led her away from the group of boys, shooting Harry an apologetic look as she went. Parvati and Seamus followed, shying their gazes away from everyone, and they all disappeared silently down the corridor.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Ron sighed. "Too far?"

"Maybe a bit," Dean replied. "It'll pass. Come on, mates. Weren't we looking for Granger?"

"Right," Ron murmured sheepishly. They took off again, with their mission once again in sight.

The minutes passed, and the four continued to search the castle, but with no luck. Hermione wasn't in McGonagall's office. She wasn't in the Great Hall, or the Slytherin common room, according to Daphne Greengrass, or Professor Flitwick's room. She wasn't even in the library, where she would usually spend a good portion of her time outside all other activities. She was nowhere to be found. Neville groaned in frustration as they continued on. "Where could she be? We've checked all her normal spots!"

Harry shrugged. "Maybe she doesn't want to be found."

"Why on Earth wouldn't she want to be found?" Dean asked quizzically. "What could she possibly be doing?"

Harry said nothing; his suspicion was quite clear indeed.

"You're mad," Ron murmured. "She wouldn't ditch us for...that. Would she?"

"I don't know," replied Harry. He spied the tall door that led up to the Astronomy Tower. "Could she be up there?"

Neville cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well, if she wanted some privacy…"

"Let's go," said Ron. "We need to find her."

As he stepped forward, Harry grabbed his arm. "Ron, don't. We don't know what could be happening up there. You could be walking into anything."

"I don't care," Ron snarled. "What if he's hurting her?"

Harry went numb, giving Ron the opportunity to break free of his best friend's grasp. He shoved the door open and listened for a moment. He heard nothing, and shouted, "Hermione? Are you up there?"

"Ron?" came a confused voice from above. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"We've been looking all over for you!" he shouted. "Me, Harry, Neville, Dean! Been searching for a while, we have."

He could hear the sound of her footsteps as she descended quickly down the stairs and into his view. He was relieved to see that she looked pretty normal, but her irritated look caught him a bit off guard. "Ronald, have you completely lost it?"

"We were worried," Dean piped up. "Thought something might have happened to you."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Well, I'm fine. Needed to take care of something. And why is it that you all were so particularly concerned for my safety?"

"I don't know," Harry replied. "We thought...maybe, you know, if you weren't alone-"

"What?" Hermione interrupted. "Come on, Harry. Spit it out, would you?"

While Harry was still searching for the right words, Neville spoke. "We thought Malfoy might have hurt you or something."

Hermione crossed her arms. "He wouldn't do something like that, you all should know this," she scolded. "He's not even here. And frankly, I find it totally inconceivable that you lot would be foolish enough to even suspect him of-"

"Granger? Is everything alright down there?"

Hermione clamped her jaw shut, and all eyes fell on an untidy Draco Malfoy, who appeared behind Hermione on the stairwell. He didn't seem his usual self at all; his normally kept hair was tousled and messy, and his face was far more pale than usual. He looked especially gaunt, for whatever reason. And he wasn't bothering to sneer at them, either. He looked...defeated.

Ron immediately lurched forward. "What is the meaning of this, Malfoy?" he muttered. "Why did you keep Hermione from us?"

"Ron, knock it off!" Harry exclaimed. "Leave him be!"

Draco almost couldn't seem to find words to respond with. After a moment, he weakly muttered, "I didn't know I was keeping her from you, Weasley."

Hermione placed a hand comfortingly on his arm. "You weren't, darling."

"He was! Or have you forgotten?" Ron said angrily, clenching his fists. "We were going to go to Hogsmeade! You, and I, and Harry! But I suppose you were too caught up in your snotty boyfriend to even consider us. Weren't you?!"

Draco's face suddenly twisted in pain, a look that none of the Gryffindor boys had even seen before. He didn't bother to defend himself, and Hermione stepped between him and Ron. "This was not Draco's fault, and it wasn't my fault!" she shouted. "You should learn not to be so quick to assume things that you have no prior knowledge of, Ronald Weasley!"

Harry sighed. "We just wish you would have told us, Hermione," he said. "That's all, really. But I know, sometimes the circumstances-"

"Circumstances have nothing to do with it!" Ron cut in.

"Ron, shut up!" Dean hissed.

Hermione directly addressed Harry, trying to ignore the fired-up boy directly in front of her who seemed ready to throw a punch or two. "I'm sorry, Harry. I'm sorry for not sending you word about all this. But I needed to be there for Draco, whether he asked for me or not. He needed me. And if you knew what was going on, you'd understand. I'm sure of it."

"Balderdash," grumbled Ron.

"Ron, I swear to Godric..." Dean said through gritted teeth.

Harry nodded. "I'm sure that you had a good reason," he said. "And I'm sorry we walked in on whatever that reason may be."

"Yes. Even if you two really just needed a good shag or two. Sure, of course we'd forgive you. We're so sorry," Ron muttered bitterly.

Harry, Neville, and Dean went mute, staring at their friend in horror. Hermione's eyes widened at his words, and even Draco visibly showed his shock. "Weasley, that's not what-"

"You don't get to speak! You will not speak!" Ron yelled, his somewhat calm demeanor finally beginning to crack.

Draco folded his arms. "You can't just order me around, Weasel-bee," he said icily. "And for your information, that notion is completely absurd on your part. You simply don't know what you're talking about. You don't know anything about what's going on. It's a simple fact."

"How dare you!" Ron growled. And before Harry, Neville, or Dean could even stop him, Ron fiercely launched himself at Draco. Hermione immediately let out a yelp, and Draco pushed her to the ground, out of the way. Ron shoved Draco backward against the stairs, jerking him back and forth by the front of his shirt. Draco furiously fought back, albeit less so than his adversary, but he fought nonetheless.

With Harry's help, Hermione scrambled to her feet. "Ron! Leave him alone!" she cried.

"Both of you idiots, stop!" Harry hollered. He and Hermione both immediately went for Ron, grabbing him by the shirt and trying to yank him away from Draco. But Ron was relentless. He'd been consumed by his anger, his never-ending hatred of the boy he and Harry had been at odds with for years. And his fury and paranoia at the thought of what Draco could potentially do to hurt Hermione was enough to blind him from the reality of the situation.

Eventually, Harry and Hermione were able to separate the two quarreling boys. Hermione tightened her grip on Ron's arm, scared to death that he might try to charge Draco again; it was clear that the Slytherin had been considerably weakened by the scuffle, and he didn't look to have a lot of fight left in him. Granted, he hadn't much to begin with.

"Foul little git. Don't you dare put your hands on her again, do you hear me?!" Ron said brusquely. "Don't. You. Dare."

His infuriated expression was enough to keep Draco from shooting a snarky remark back at him. Instead, Draco gave him an angry glare and forcefully pushed his way out into the corridor, nearly knocking Neville over in the process. He slunk away, angered by Ron's actions, and Hermione turned to stare at Ron. "You should be ashamed of yourself," she muttered, clearly disappointed in him. "You could have done something to help him. And all you did was hurt him. That's low." And with that, she took off and left the group of Gryffindors behind.

...

...

Down the corridor, Hermione finally caught up to Draco. "Hey! Wait up! Draco, wait! Please talk to me!" she called.

She tried to grasp his arm, but he yanked it away. "What?"

"I'm sorry for everything that just happened!" she said. "I didn't know that Ron was going to fly off the handle like that! Otherwise, I wouldn't have said anything to give away our location."

Draco kept walking, refusing to look at her. "Now do you understand why I said I can't try with him?! He'll never be swayed. He's got this preconceived notion that I'm going to do everything in my power to hurt you."

"You used to hate me," she said flatly. "Do you really blame him for thinking what he does?"

"But I don't hate you," Draco argued. "That's the thing. I...I never really did."

Hermione scoffed. "Oh, please. All those years of teasing, antagonizing my friends...calling me _Mudblood_, and you're trying to tell me that you _didn't_ hate me? Rubbish."

Draco stopped and turned to her. She saw that his cheeks were streaked with tears, and his jaw trembled as he spoke. "Granger, listen to me. I didn't hate you...actually, I sort of thought you were okay. But I guess I was frustrated that you were always flocked by those two goons. Hung on your every move, they did. And I don't know. I didn't feel like I could approach you."

Hermione glowered at him. "But that still doesn't explain why you taunted me and teased me for five whole years," she muttered.

"My family had pure-blood ideals," he said softly, staring down at the ground guiltily. "I grew up in a world where Muggle-borns were nothing but scum. That's what my father drilled into my head. I didn't know any better. And I know that's not an excuse."

"No. It's not."

"What do you expect me to say, then?"

"I don't know!"

Draco looked as if he were about to break again. "I don't want us to fight," he mumbled almost inaudibly. "I can't stand the thought of you being angry at me, or hating me. Please. After everything that's happened today...I can't lose you. To Weasley, to Potter, to anything else. I-I'm so sorry."

Hermione could see the glimmer of despair in his eyes. He looked so vulnerable, standing there before her, a scared, broken, distraught boy whose entire world had just been shattered into a thousand pieces. And now he was pleading with her not to be angry with him because he wouldn't have known what to do if she were. Her expression softened, and she took his hand. "Draco, I could never hate you. I don't. And you're not going to lose me. Do you understand?"

He nodded meekly, but there was still a subtle hint of doubt in his eyes. "I do understand, Granger."

She smiled hopefully. "Good. Now, I don't know about you, but I'd fancy a rest right about now. Would you care to join me?"

Draco smirked. "You didn't get enough sleep last night?"

"I did," she replied. "And I didn't say sleep. Rest is different."

"I didn't think it mattered so much," Draco said. "But I suppose this is you that I'm talking to, and it shouldn't really surprise me. You've always been a stickler for correct language. It's a bit annoying, really."

Hermione punched him lightly on the arm. "You take that back."

"Never, Granger. Not as long as there is breath in my lungs and a beat in my heart." Draco caught her wrist as she went to punch him again. "And I'll be having none of that."

She giggled, attempting to free herself from his strong grip. "Fine. Let go, then."

Draco cautiously let her go. "Only if you swear that you won't punch me anymore," he said sternly.

The second she was free, Hermione took off running down the corridor. "I make no promises!" she hollered.

Draco's breath caught in his throat. "Granger, that's-hey, wait! You come back here!" He bolted after her, laughing and shaking his fist in the air.

As he sprinted along, calling out to her and being extremely careful not to stumble and fall on his face, an irritated voice shouted after him. "Mr. Malfoy! What in the world do you think you're doing?!"

Draco's heart skipped a beat, and he skidded ungracefully to a stop. He recognized Professor McGonagall's sharp, no-nonsense voice immediately, and turned around. The old witch had poked her head out of her office, and was staring at him over her half-moon shaped glasses. "Nothing, Professor! Nothing at all!" he called out.

McGonagall approached him at lightning speed. Draco flinched; for an older woman, she was more spry than he would have taken her for. "Mr. Malfoy, you know the rules," she scolded. "You are not, under any circumstances, allowed to run around in the halls like a fool-WITHOUT AN ADULT PRESENT, I MIGHT ADD-when there are dangerous, deadly creatures on the loose who could swarm the castle at any time. I would have expected this from many other Slytherins, but not you. Certainly not you."

Draco mind began to run wild as he searched for a believable way to defend himself when he heard footsteps approaching him from behind. Hermione jogged up beside him, breathing hard. "Hello, Professor!" she said cheerfully.

"Hello there, Miss Granger," McGonagall murmured, not the slightest bit amused. "Would you care to tell me why you and Mr. Malfoy are running about the castle unescorted? And like brainless hooligans, at that!"

Hermione bit her lip. "We were...coming back from the library," she said slowly. "Studying for Potions. Draco wanted to look into Amortentia, you know, for obvious reasons, but we couldn't find anything. And then I stole his wand from him and ran away with it. That's why he was chasing me."

Draco gawked at her; McGonagall was the third professor that Hermione had lied to in the last 24 hours. He had to admit, he was a bit impressed. McGonagall turned her steely gaze to him. "Is that the truth, Mr. Malfoy?"

He nodded. "Yes, Professor. That's exactly what happened."

McGonagall didn't look like she believed them at all, but nevertheless, she let the matter drop. "Oh, alright. But if this happens again, it'll be twenty points off of _both_ of your Houses-yes, even Gryffindor, Miss Granger, stop looking at me like that-and two weeks of detention for the both of you. Am I clear?"

The two sixth-years nodded vehemently.

McGonagall huffed. "Very well. Now, both of you, off to your respective dormitories. And don't let me catch either of you taking any detours," she muttered.

"Yes, Professor," Hermione replied. "Fine. No problem."

And with that, the old witch disappeared back down the corridor, slamming the door of her office behind her.

Draco glanced at Hermione. "You're positively bonkers, Granger," he said. "But here you are, saving us yet again."

She smirked. "Well, I've learned from the best. And for your information, I was doing that for _my_ benefit, not for yours. I've got a good, clean record running with McGonagall, and I'll not have you messing it up for me."

"Whatever you say," Draco replied. "Now, you heard your Head of House. Off to your dormitory!" He crossed his arms and stood up straight, reminding Hermione vaguely of the guards that stood outside Buckingham Palace.

"Okay, fine," grumbled Hermione. "But...are you going to be alright?"

Draco shrugged. "Sure."

Hermione frowned. "Tell me the truth."

"I'll be fine," he replied. "I just don't want to think about things right now."

She nodded. "I understand. But Draco, just...just let me know. You know, if you need anything at all."

A smile appeared on Draco's face. "I'll be sure to take you up on that, Granger," he said softly. "You mark my words."

Hermione gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Wonderful."

He smirked. "I'll see you later. Don't get into too much trouble while I'm gone, alright?"

"Once again, I make no promises," she replied. And before he could even protest, she skipped off in the opposite direction toward Gryffindor Tower. He watched her with a fascination that didn't usually creep into his mind; Draco wasn't easily fascinated by people at all.

But she was the one exception.

...

...

Hermione arrived back at the tower in fairly high spirits. She was happy that Draco had agreed to come to her if he needed help; what she wanted at that point, more than anything, was to help him. After the upsetting letter he had received, it wasn't going to be easy to go back to how things in his life were before. And she knew that she wouldn't be able to bring his parents back or solve any of his problems, but she'd sure as hell make certain that he wouldn't have to face them alone.

She strode into the common room, preparing to greet her friends, but as soon as the door shut, she heard a loud scream. "I'M DONE WITH THIS! WITH YOU! I CAN'T DO IT ANYMORE!"

The voice stopped her in her tracks. _What the devil is going on in there?_

A second person shouted in response, and Hermione's heart dropped. "FINE, THEN GO! LEAVE!"

She peered into the common room and found Ron, Lavender, Harry, Ginny, and Neville. Harry was standing next to Ron, apparently trying to talk to him, or maybe calm him down; it didn't really seem to be working. Lavender was on her feet, pointing accusingly at Ron, and her face was twisted with rage. Neville had recoiled against the wall as if someone had thrown something his way, and Ginny stood between her brother and her best friend, trying to mediate the situation. "Come on, guys. There's got to be something you can do to work this out," she was saying.

"There's nothing to work out!" Lavender argued. "And besides, didn't you hear him? He wants me to leave!"

"It's your common room too," Harry protested. "You're allowed to be here, same as the rest of us."

Ron snorted. "Yeah, but I don't _want_ her here right now," he snapped. "Especially after the way she's been acting."

Lavender scoffed. "Oh, I've been acting some type of way?" she demanded. "Then answer me this, Ronald. Have I been completely ignoring you at every opportunity? Have I been treating you with disrespect and contempt? Have I been putting in the lowest possible amount of effort to solve our problems? No. That's not been me. That's been you this whole time."

Ron rolled his eyes. "You're barking mad."

"Am I?!" she shouted. "Am I, really?"

Harry butted in again. "Guys, this is ridiculous. You should try talking it out. It'll work better than all this yelling and arguing."

"There's nothing to talk about," Ron muttered. "I'm done."

Lavender straightened up. "Well, I'm done too."

"Good."

"Good."

"Fine."

"Fine!"

"Get out!"

"Love to!"

"Shove off!"

"Make me!"

"Good riddance!"

Lavender let out a disgruntled huff, and dramatically stormed for the door. She pushed past Hermione, who was still extremely confused as to what was going on, and in the span of a second, she was gone. Ginny looked like she wanted to follow her, but Harry gave her a look that told her to stay put.

Hermione stepped into the common room after an uneasy moment of dead silence. "Well, um...should I even ask?"

Ron looked up at her. "Lav and I broke up," he said harshly.

Hermione joined Harry, who had sat down on the leather couch. "But why? Why did you feel the need to break up with her, Ron?"

He shrugged. "It just wasn't worth all the trouble. I suppose."

"I think it had something to do with Seamus," Neville piped up.

Ron said nothing, and stared down at his shoes.

Ginny patted him on the shoulder. "Things will look up," she murmured. "It's not the last relationship you'll ever have, I'm sure. Why don't we do something to get your mind off it?"

"Like what?" Ron asked, glancing up at his sister.

Harry's eyes widened. "Well...there's a Potions exam this coming week," he said slowly. "And two rolls due as well. Because Professor Snape enjoys torturing us _that_ much."

"I'm scrap at Potions," Neville said quietly. "Complete and utter scrap."

Ginny sent a sympathetic glance his way. "Why don't you all study, then?" she asked. "Together? Since not all of you are completely comfortable in the subject."

"That seems like a good idea," Hermione agreed. "I'm god-awful at Potions as well."

"Yeah. Without your partner," Ron grumbled.

Hermione shot him a look. "Ronald, please don't start this up again," she said, pulling out her Potions book and opening it up to the most recently reviewed chapter. "Now, Professor Snape said that we have to put particular emphasis on the potions discussed during the last two weeks of class. What were the potions again?"

"I can't remember them all," said Harry. "I mean, I know the Draughts of Peace and Living Death. Those are easy. And...let's see, the Babbling Beverage. I think he mentioned several poisons as well. And of course, Amortentia. We _all_ know what that does."

"Thanks to Hermione," Ginny added.

Harry looked offended. "And me."

"Hm...no, I don't seem to remember," Hermione snickered. "I don't recall that you were even a part of that whole issue."

Harry groaned, but the moment he saw the smile on his best friend's face, he grinned. "I suppose you were a better example."

"Too right, you are," replied Hermione. "Now that the most obvious one is out of the way, what about the Babbling Beverage?"

Ron spoke next. "Doesn't that cause the drinker to speak gibberish? With no control?"

"I believe you're right, Ronald," Ginny said. "I read about that one somewhere."

"Right," Harry said, gazing dreamily at Ginny. "You are quite studious, aren't you?"

Ginny didn't seem to notice Harry staring at her like a lovestruck idiot, and that gave Hermione the opportunity to reach over and snap her fingers in front of Harry's face. "Would you stop? She _just_ broke up with Dean. Give her some time."

Harry rolled his eyes and said nothing, going back to his parchment. "Alright, what about the Pepperup Potion? It's used as a healing potion, but I don't remember what it is specially used to heal."

"I don't remember either," Ron muttered.

"Cold and flu symptoms?" asked Hermione.

"Could be," Ginny replied.

"Wait, we talked about the Pepperup Potion?" Neville said softly, cocking his head in confusion.

"Good grief, Neville, you really are hopeless," Harry grumbled.

Hermione kicked his foot. "Harry, shut up. Yes, Neville, we talked about it almost two weeks ago. That's probably why it's so much harder to remember."

Neville thought for a moment, before brightening up. "Wait. Isn't that the potion that makes steam come out of the user's ears?"

Ron scowled, but Hermione smiled proudly. "Exactly! And let's see here. Uh, the Oculus Potion...it restores the eyesight of the drinker. Harry, maybe you should brew up a patch of that. Might make your sight a bit better," she teased.

"So rude," Harry muttered. "What about the Weedsoros Potion? Any idea what that does?"

Hermione nodded. "It's a poison," she reminded him. "Remember? Professor Snape specifically told us that we would need to know three different poison potions for this period exam."

Neville sat back. "So, what are they?"

The five Gryffindors exchanged confused glances for a moment before Ginny finally spoke up. "What about the Caxambu Style Borborygmus Potion?" she asked. "Is that a poison?"

Harry and Ron gave her a strange look, and Hermione chuckled. "It's not, but I'm sure that it would benefit Ronald quite a bit, given how hungry he is all the time." She leaned over and revealed a page in her book to Ginny, who promptly burst into a fit of giggles. The Caxambu Style Borborygmus Potion was for stopping the stomach from any excessive and particularly loud growling. And it tasted horrid.

"Oi!" Ron groaned. "Stop that, both of you."

The irritated look on his face made the two girls snicker again, and Hermione took a deep breath. "Alright, we have to focus. What are the two other poison potions? Come on. We have to figure them out."

Harry rapidly flipped through his Potions book until it no longer looked like he was searching for the answer; rather, he looked as if he were fanning himself with the pages. "I can't find any blasted poison potions!" he said, moaning in frustration. "Does anyone actually remember any other potions that Snape talked about, or is he just doing this to drive us bonkers?"

To everyone's surprise, Neville spoke up. "Bloodroot and Baneberry."

His friends stopped. "Come again?" Ron said slowly.

"Bloodroot and Baneberry," Neville repeated. "I remember writing it...somewhere in the margins of my notes, I think, because they sounded cool together." He skimmed through his book for a few seconds, before showing them a couple of pages smack in the center. Sure enough, the Bloodroot Potion and the Baneberry Potion were two dangerous, toxic, and extremely poisonous potions that were quite temperamental and difficult to concoct in the first place.

Ginny clapped her hands. "Wonderful, Neville!"

Harry smirked. "You're not as scrap as you think you are at Potions," he said. "You really ought to give yourself more credit, mate."

Neville shrugged, and Hermione cleared her throat. "Alright, well, now that Neville has figured out the poisons, let's keep going. Baruffio's Brain Elixir...it increases the drinker's overall brain power by ten times."

"I think Hermione was born with a bit of that," Ron wisecracked. "Not like myself."

She glared at him. "I was not. Maybe you would notice a difference if you actually _applied_ yourself, Ronald," she said angrily. "And not just slacked off all the time."

"I'm a menace at Potions, though," Ron protested. "How do you expect me to apply myself to something that I'm dead awful at?"

Hermione shrugged. "Figure it out for yourself," she said curtly, going back to her book. "Let's see. The Wolfsbane Potion. It says here that-"

Harry cut in. "Lupin used that!" he said loudly. "Snape brewed it for him in our third year, before everyone found out he was a werewolf!"

"Remus Lupin was a _werewolf?_" asked Neville. "Since when?"

Ron crossed his arms. "Since forever, you bloody thickhead."

"Ron!" Hermione snapped irritably. "Would you shut up?"

He just shook his head at her, and opted not to reply.

Harry ignored Ron's outburst. "I don't remember Professor Snape talking about the Wolfsbane Potion at all," he said. "But from what I gathered, based on the first time I ever saw Remus Lupin transform into a werewolf, it quells his canine urges and makes him a bit more...human. But when he didn't take it, he became a full-fledged werewolf and tried to attack us all."

Hermione shuddered. "I remember."

Ginny patted her arm. "What's this about Draughts?" she asked. "What do they do?"

Harry looked up at her. "The Draught of Peace decreases one's anxiety and calms them down," he said pointedly. "The Draught of Living Death is a sleeping potion so powerful that the drinker appears to be dead. And the Wiggenweld Potion is the potion that can bring someone under the influence of the Draught of Living Death back to the land of the living. It gives them quite a jolt, as I understand it, but it's effective."

Ginny smiled. "Wow, Harry. Impressive."

A slight blush spread over Harry's cheeks, and he ducked his head to avoid Ginny seeing it. Hermione, however, sniggered under her breath, trying to focus on her work, and Harry shot her a look that said, _If you say one godforsaken word about my totally unobvious feelings, I will rip off your arm and beat you within an inch of your life._

Hermione just grinned, and continued to scribble all over her piece of parchment.

After a couple of minutes, Neville awkwardly cleared his throat. "Uh...well then, shall we go on?"

"Sure," Ron replied. "What about...the Elixir of Life?"

"Blimey, Ron," Neville said. "You should know all about that! As I recall, you three nearly got yourselves thrown out of Hogwarts trying to acquire some stone that _produces_ the Elixir of Life."

Harry shrugged. "Yeah. And I also remember you trying to stop us."

"Because you lost Gryffindor one hundred and fifty points!"

"Yes, but we earned them back and then some! If you remember, Neville, we won Gryffindor the House Cup that year!"

"Yes, but you put yourselves in danger!"

"We didn't die, though!"

"But Harry, you could have!"

"We defeated Professor Quirrell _and_ Lord Voldemort!"

"_Don't_ say his name!"

"He's dead, Neville! You shouldn't be scared of his name any longer!"

Hermione groaned, loudly snapping her book shut and making everyone go completely silent. "Oh, would you both just stop?!" she shouted angrily. "That entire skirmish with Voldemort and Quirrell, that was five years ago. It no longer matters, alright? Now, I'm having trouble concentrating with you two blighters arguing back and forth, so if you'll excuse me…" She haughtily grabbed her materials and strode off toward the girls' dormitory, leaving her friends behind without another word. She ascended up the stairs and slammed her dormitory door behind her, flopping down on her bed in exhaustion. Nothing irked her more than when her friends bickered amongst themselves about such trivial topics. They were in the past. There was nothing else to be afraid of.

It was done for.

As she pulled her blanket up over her body and opened her Potions book again, a distressing thought began to tug at her mind. Nothing was done for, and she knew that. Voldemort was gone, sure, but many of the Death Eaters were still at large. And the Dementors were coming, there was no doubt about it. Everyone who resided at Hogwarts was in danger as long as there was a Death Eater concealed within the castle's walls. And though she had her suspicions as to who that Death Eater might be, it did her no good at all. She was too scared to confront him, too terrified of what he might do, and too trusting of Dumbledore to doubt his decision to protect said Death Eater, even if it meant putting the school in a considerable amount of danger.

Hermione shook the thought from her head and shoved her face straight into a pillow, letting her book fall to the floor carelessly. She shut her eyes, willing the terrifying notion to leave her mind as she began to fall into a restless, completely dreamless sleep.

**A/N: I am so sorry for not updating this sooner. I was working on moving, and now I'm gonna be moving again, I've been taking some online classes with six hours of homework a night, and working a full-time job, so there hasn't proven to be a lot of time for writing. But anyway, I really hope you all enjoyed this chapter. What did you think about the news of Draco's parents? Expected? Unexpected? Feel free to share your thoughts with me! I'm really hoping to get back into writing once I finish my online classes. Stay tuned for Part 2!**

**-BlackthornUnicorn98**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hello, lovelies. Here is yet another late update, because sometimes, life just gets in the way. I don't believe there are any original characters not already mentioned in this chapter, so as usual, I don't own anything but the plot of the story. Enjoy!**

**IS IT LOVE?: A DRAMIONE STORY**

**Chapter 9: Meetings, Stories, and Helpful Conversation**

**(Day 5, Part 2)**

Severus Snape sat in his classroom, going over past essays and projects that his students had done in recent weeks. As usual, there were the higher achievers who scored top marks, many of whom were in Slytherin, and there were those who hadn't a clue what they were doing, namely everyone else. Snape reviewed an essay by Seamus Finnigan, which was subpar at best, and shoved it aside, muttering to himself in frustration.

As the Potions Master continued to review his students' work, there came a loud knock at his classroom door. "Yes? Who is it?" he called.

The door swung open, and in walked Albus Dumbledore. He wore a vague expression, but didn't seem happy in the slightest when he spoke. "Hello, Severus."

Snape put his work to the side. "Greetings, Professor Dumbledore," he said carefully. "What brings you here, to my humble abode?"

Dumbledore approached Snape's desk. "Oh, truly nothing much," he replied. "Wonderfully cold weather today, don't you think?"

"Ghastly," Snape said monotonously. "Bleak. Troublesome."

"You do not like the snow, Professor?" Dumbledore asked. "Not even a bit?"

Snape shook his head. "No, sir. Damp and cold and miserable, it is. Never liked it, even as a boy. Why do you ask?"

"I like learning more about my colleagues," replied Dumbledore. "It feels like a closer community when I have such unimportant but entertaining knowledge of the people closest to me. Wouldn't you agree?"

Snape lowered his head. "I suppose."

Dumbledore frowned. "But alas, though I very much enjoy these conversations, I'm afraid I must bring a rather distressing matter to you, Severus. I do hope you'll forgive me."

The greasy-haired man glanced up, his attention finally having been caught. "Yes? And what is this distressing matter, Headmaster?"

Dumbledore paused, finding his next words. "As I understand it, you are aware of the recent activity concerning the Dementors of Azkaban," he said slowly. "You know why they've gone mad. They're seeking revenge. On a particular group of people that you happen to be quite familiar with."

"I know, sir," Snape mumbled, becoming slightly impatient.

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "And I know that you no longer associate with the Death Eaters, Severus, but you were once one of them. I am well aware of those facts, indeed. But there is still a fight to be had. Please, do not think me a selfish old man for what I am about to ask of you. It is for the safety of the school, the students, and the staff, that I must request this of you."

Snape began to get visibly nervous, something that he didn't allow many people to witness. "I see. And what is this that you want me to do?"

Dumbledore sighed. "You are a clever man, a skilled fighter, and a formidable ally, Severus," he murmured. "I do not deny what is clear to my eyes. But though I believe you would prove most useful in the inevitable fight against the Dementors, given your knowledge of the Patronus Charm, I believe that your presence would be more useful at a greater distance. Attraction from afar, in a sense, which will keep our students and staff safe from harm."

Snape's mouth dropped open. "You want me to act as bait and lure them away. So that they come after me, and leave Hogwarts alone."

"Indeed," Dumbledore replied. "They are looking for you, are they not?"

"And you're asking me to retreat like a coward, drawing them from the castle and facing them on my own, running the risk of essentially dying myself with barely a defense?" Snape demanded. "Forgive me, Albus, but that's a ridiculous notion. You know that it is extraordinarily difficult to fight off a slew of Dementors at once, on one's own. It's only been done a handful of times by exceptionally powerful wizards, one of which I am not."

Dumbledore chuckled. "I must remind you, Severus, that Harry Potter managed to conjure a Patronus of that magnitude at the tender age of thirteen. You are far more powerful than Mr. Potter is, aren't you?"

Snape frowned. "Truthfully, Mr. Potter's power astonishes me," he said softly. "But he and I are incomparable, due to age and maturity. You must understand this."

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "But there is something to be said of a former Death Eater-the _only_ former Death Eater, I might add-who is capable of producing a Patronus."

"I'll die," murmured Snape, wringing his hands together. "I'll die before I endure the Dementor's Kiss."

Dumbledore regarded him coldly. "Severus, the request I am making of you is for the benefit of the school. The students are incapable of defending themselves. It's better this way."

"No. It's not," Snape argued. "As I recall, many of the older students are able to produce adequate Patronuses, corporeal or otherwise. Do you not remember Dumbledore's Army?"

Dumbledore detected a hint of bitterness in Snape's voice, and nodded. "I do. But I regret to say that the abilities of thirty-something twelve to seventeen-year-old wizards are not sufficient enough to repel an entire army of Dementors."

"And you believe that the abilities of a single thirty-six-year-old wizard against the same army of Dementors will conclude with better results?" Snape shot back.

"One cannot know," Dumbledore answered, not particularly seeming to care about Snape's concerns. "Only hope. But you know, you can always find residence in a place where the Dementors will not suspect. A safe haven of sorts."

Snape clenched his fists. "And what did you have in mind, _sir_?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"Oh, I don't know," replied Dumbledore, ignoring Snape's anger. "Maybe Cokeworth? Your home on Spinner's End? They may not think to look for you there. Or a small, discreet Muggle community. You may find safety there as well. None of the Dementors will be looking for Muggles. Oh, I've got it! What about Malfoy Manor?"

Snape shook his head. "No. With all due respect, Dumbledore, I must disagree. That's a terrible idea."

"What's so terrible about it?" Dumbledore asked. "You will have refuge there. Correct me if I'm wrong, Severus, but weren't you and Lucius Malfoy good friends throughout your schooling? And he's a Death Eater himself...maybe the two of you could work together and protect each other, as well as his wife. What's her name again?'

"Narcissa," Snape mumbled, his voice twinging with sorrow. "Narcissa Malfoy. But you don't understand, sir. It wouldn't be right to hide myself away in their Manor."

"And why is that?" the Headmaster inquired.

Snape took a deep breath in. "Because I intercepted a letter early this morning," he said. "From Mafalda Hopkirk to Draco Malfoy. Both Lucius and Narcissa have essentially been killed by the Dementors. They received the Dementor's Kiss, I assume; Narcissa's body was not found, but her husband's was."

Dumbledore gasped quietly. "The poor boy," he said. "I assume that you shall be taking him in, then?"

Snape nodded. "Andromeda Tonks is dead, and Bellatrix Lestrange has been slowly losing her mind since Voldemort's demise," he murmured. "Lucius has no next of kin that I am aware of, and Narcissa's closest living relative is her niece, a Metamorphmagus married to a werewolf. He wouldn't be safe with them. Anyway, Narcissa personally asked me to look after Draco, in the event of something happening to her or Lucius."

"I see," said Dumbledore. "That's very kind of you."

Snape shrugged. "So would it not be wise for me to remain here, to help protect Draco and the rest of the students? Don't you think that's what his mother would have wanted?"

For a moment, Dumbledore looked to have been briefly swayed by Snape's words, before he shook his head. "No, Severus. Should something happen, Draco is more protected without you here than anything else. There are many skilled witches and wizards here who can defend the school, as well as our young Mr. Malfoy. Your presence here is not required any longer. Not as long as the Dementors continue to pursue you and your old cohorts."

"This is unfathomable," Snape grumbled, accidentally snapping one of his quills in two. "And what if I am unable to return?"

"We will honor you as best we can in these troubled times," said Dumbledore.

Snape huffed. "I don't believe you. I don't believe any of this."

"I am sorry that you do not agree with my decision, Severus," Dumbledore said sadly. "I regret that action must be taken this way, but this is what I feel is best. And should you escape, as I believe you will, you shall be welcomed back as a hero."

"I shall never be a hero," muttered Snape. "This conversation is over, Headmaster. I bid you well." With that, he turned on his heel and furiously retreated into his office, leaving Dumbledore alone, and slammed the door behind him.

...

...

Hermione sat in the Great Hall, still extremely tired from her mid-afternoon nap. She hadn't meant to fall asleep, but she wasn't complaining about it either. In fact, she'd admitted to herself that it had been a good idea to take a nice, long snooze. Now here she was, sitting in a room full of clamoring students and wishing she could retreat back to her room and hide herself beneath the warm covers of her bed.

"Ron, I'm telling you! The Hiccoughing Potion _causes_ hiccups!" Harry was saying.

Ron stubbornly shook his head. "No, it doesn't. It _cures_ them! Snape talked about it last week!"

"No, you must be mistaken," Harry replied, pushing spaghetti around his plate. "He specifically said that it is used to give the drinker uncontrollable hiccups."

"Harry, you need to get your head on straight!" Ron shot back.

Hermione groaned as the two boys continued to argue back and forth; she was getting so irritated by their babbling about Potions that there had been about five times in the last twenty minutes that she had considered smacking them both upside their heads to knock some sense into them. And she only decided against it because Gryffindor was doing well in the running for the House Cup, and slapping her classmates, even if they deserved it, would ensure that they would not win. So she held back.

As the bored witch glared around the room, irritated by any and all existence, her eyes fell on the doorway. Standing there was Draco Malfoy, looking very lost and a little uneasy. He didn't seem like he wanted to be there at all; he actually seemed like he'd been forced. Regardless of what the situation was, he looked like a lost puppy, unsure of where to go or what to do next, and Hermione couldn't really blame him, after the trying day he'd had.

Before she could process her actions, she mumbled an excuse to Harry and Ron, who didn't seem to notice, and approached Draco, waving to him kindly. "Hey!"

He glanced up at her, and managed a weak smile. "Hello, Granger."

Hermione grinned. "You alright?"

"Fine," Draco replied. "Never been better."

"Draco, don't do that," she said sternly, her smile fading. "Don't lie to me. Why don't you come and eat?"

He shrugged. "Blaise and Theo look like they're about to leave," he replied.

Hermione shot him a smirk. "I meant with me."

Her statement clearly took the young Slytherin by surprise, and he frowned. "But, your friends-"

She put a finger to his lips. "Don't worry about my friends. Now, come on."

Draco said nothing more, and let her lead him by the hand over to the Gryffindor table. As she sat down next to Harry again, he and Ron looked up and noticed Draco at Hermione's side. "Oi. What's this lunatic doing here?" Ron asked.

Hermione stared daggers at him. "Ronald, hush! He's going to eat with us."

Harry shook his head. "Hermione, you know that we're supposed to eat at our own House tables," he whispered urgently. "McGonagall is going to have a cow."

"I don't care," Hermione said stubbornly, gesturing for Draco to sit down next to her.

Harry and Ron exchanged an irritated glance, before finally deciding that it wouldn't be worth it to get into an argument with Hermione at that moment. "Fine," Ron muttered. "Now, Harry, as I was saying, the Hiccoughing Potion is a remedy. That should be obvious."

"That's the thing...it's not," Harry responded. "It's clearly used for the purposes of making someone explode into a fit of hiccups. Really, it's anything but a remedy."

"Rubbish!" Ron exclaimed.

"It's not rubbish! It's fact!" Harry argued.

Hermione groaned again, ready to cut into the conversation and berate her two best friends, when Draco slowly held up his hand. "Would it be completely horrid of me to weigh in here?" he asked cautiously.

"Yes. It would, actually," Ron said, narrowing his eyes. "This isn't your conversation or your business, Malfoy."

Draco scowled. "No need to be rude, Weasley," he muttered. "I was just trying to be helpful. Maybe resolve your issue, if I can."

"We don't need you to resolve anything," said Harry. "Thank you very much."

Hermione flicked him in the ear. "Harry! Let him help, would you?"

"Yeah, Potter. Let me help," Draco echoed.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Alright, then. What help can you give us?" he demanded.

Draco cleared his throat. "Well, if my memory serves me correctly, the ingredients in a Hiccoughing Potion are combined in the fashion of an antidote, essentially twice as much as a potion with a causality property. So, Weasley is right: it does cure the most uncontrollable cases of the hiccups. In a matter of seconds, actually."

Harry and Ron both stared at him in shock, and Hermione beamed. "How in the bloody hell did you know all that?" Harry exclaimed.

"My father was a favorite of the old Potions Master, Horace Slughorn," Draco explained. "He taught him everything he knew, you know. And then he passed that knowledge down to me."

"I see why you're a favorite of Snape's now," Ron grumbled. "Not only because you're a member of his own House, but because you're so wonderful and skilled at Potions, and he thinks you can do no wrong."

"Well, I don't do anything to piss him off either, Weasley," said Draco. "Believe it or not, it helps my reputation. Maybe you should think about trying it, one of these days."

Ron sat back. "I'm not taking any advice from _you_, Malfoy."

"I never asked you to," Draco replied calmly. "It was merely a friendly suggestion."

Hermione patted Draco on the shoulder and glared at Ron. "Alright. The point is, your question is answered. That's one more potion that we don't have to worry about."

"I suppose not," Ron muttered.

Draco weakly smiled again, and Hermione leaned on his shoulder. "You're completely brilliant," she murmured. "Mental, of course, but brilliant."

"And you're a hypocrite," Draco whispered back. He kissed her on the forehead and dove into the food on his plate. Hermione attended to her own dinner, and Ron shot Harry a disgusted look; he was clearly still repulsed by Draco and Hermione's relationship. Harry, on the other hand, wasn't nearly as uncomfortable with the affection that they were showing one another; he'd actually started to become more used to it. And Draco wasn't being nearly as much of a prat as he normally was, either. He seemed to be trying to hold his tongue and not let smart-aleck remarks slip out. At that current time, Harry really had no reason to be mad at his best friend's boyfriend.

By the time the meal ended, Ron had finally stopped giving Draco death-glares every five seconds, mostly because his nemesis had actually proved him right during the argument. And though he was somewhat reluctant, Harry had eventually engaged Draco in a conversation about a rare herb found in Skele-Gro, a concoction that had the ability to quickly mend and grow back bones, albeit very painfully. They laughed about various times that they'd been subjected to drinking the disgusting potion; Harry had been forced to consume it during his second year, when his incompetent Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at the time, Gilderoy Lockhart, accidentally made his bones disappear in the aftermath of a near-disastrous Quidditch match. Draco admitted that he was forced to take a rather small dosage when Buckbeak the hippogriff had injured his arm, though he actually suspected Madam Pomfrey did it to spite him, since he'd provoked the creature in the first place; it was a fact that Draco could laugh about by that point. Hermione couldn't help but look back and forth between the boys proudly; they were finally getting along decently with one another, and nothing could have made her happier.

The four left the Great Hall together in high spirits, with Hermione, Harry, and Ron making plans to go to Hogsmeade together and Draco hesitantly staying out of the conversation. Although he could very well see that Ron and Harry weren't looking to murder him in his sleep anymore, a part of him still felt like he shouldn't intrude on their time together; it didn't feel right. As they walked down the hall, Draco spotted Professor Snape's classroom, and stopped.

Hermione turned. "Draco? Aren't you coming with us?" she asked, hopefully glancing at Harry and Ron.

Both boys looked on noncommittally, as if they didn't care, and Draco shook his head. "I can't, Granger. I have to speak with Snape about some things."

Hermione crossed her arms. "You've been saying that a lot lately. Is everything alright? What's going on?"

Draco shrugged. "Just what I said: I need to speak with him. Don't worry, Granger, I'd tell you if something was seriously wrong," he assured her.

Hermione looked doubtful, but gave in anyway. "Fine. Whatever you say," she said.

He slowly approached her, and planted a tender kiss on her forehead. "I'll see you later, Granger. Alright? Have fun at Hogsmeade, all of you."

She gave him a small smile in return, and Harry and Ron regarded him with simple nods. Opting not to say anything more, Draco turned away and headed into the empty Potions room, slamming the door behind him. A chill immediately overtook him; the room was freezing cold, and he hadn't the faintest idea why. Regardless, he pulled out his wand, deciding that there was no better time to practice the Patronus Charm on his own, with the guarantee that no one would walk in on him and wonder what he was up to. People generally avoided Professor Snape's classroom whenever they were able.

"Okay, come on. You can do this," he muttered to himself, gripping his wand tightly. The image of Hermione's smiling face found its way into his head, and he concentrated for a moment. "_Expecto Patronum."_

Nothing happened.

"_Expecto Patronum._"

Still nothing.

"_Expecto Patronum!"_

A brief spark of light. It vanished as quickly as it had come, and Draco groaned in frustration. "Ugh! Why can't I do this?!" he said angrily.

He began to pace about the floor worriedly, muttering under his breath when a cold voice from the other side of the room startled him and made him stop. "You're not concentrating hard enough, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco was startled, and turned to see Professor Snape, who had just emerged from his office with his wand in one hand and a book in the other. "I'm concentrating as hard as I can!" the irritated Slytherin protested. "But every time I try, nothing works!"

"I warned you that the Patronus Charm was not easy to master," Snape said drolly.

Draco nodded. "I know."

Snape walked toward him. "Remember what I taught you in our last lesson. Allow your memory to fill you up, consume you. Lose yourself in it, and focus on nothing else. Only then will you achieve what you desire."

Draco did as he was bid, and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath in, picturing Hermione's face in his mind again. He saw her twinkling brown eyes, the adorable side-smile that appeared across her lips whenever she was concentrating or studying something very intensely. He visualized her unruly mane of curls that framed her face, as well as the very faint freckles that dotted her cheeks. He couldn't have imagined a more beautiful girl, that much was clear. Draco breathed in again, and spoke softly, entranced by the image he saw in his head. "_Expecto Patronum."_

To Draco's relief, a jet of light burst from the end of his wand and the familiar silver otter appeared at his feet, circling the ground gracefully and spinning itself in circles. Snape managed a weak smile, and Draco's eyes followed the silver animal until he broke his concentration and it vanished into thin air.

"There. You see?" Snape said knowingly. ""You just needed to focus more."

Draco nodded. "I know, Professor."

Snape gave him a curt nod and turned to go back into his office, when Draco spoke again. "By the way, sir, I'm sorry. You know, about our misunderstanding yesterday."

The Potions Master turned back, an irritated frown on his pale face. "It's simply water under the bridge."

"No, Professor Snape," Draco said stubbornly. "It's not. I just...well, I suppose that what I said was a bit out of line. And under the stressful circumstances, it was wrong of me to throw such an off-handed question at you. I should have held my tongue."

Snape's expression softened. "Yes. You should have," he said. "But that doesn't make my response right, either. It's still an exceedingly painful memory, and it still plagues me, after all this time."

Draco slipped his wand into his back pocket. "What happened, Professor, if you don't mind my asking?" he asked. "What happened to make you feel so guilty over what became of that woman?"

Snape sighed, sinking into a chair. "She was part of a prophecy," he said slowly. "A prophecy that foretold an event by which a dark wizard would be vanquished. I managed to retrieve said prophecy-at least, a portion of it-and relayed vital information about the woman in the prophecy to that wizard. I didn't know that it could have been her, or I wouldn't have said anything. And I did not know that he was going to murder her. I begged Dumbledore to keep her safe, but there was only so much that could be done. The dark wizard killed her and her husband in cold blood, and I never got to say goodbye. Properly."

Draco was shocked by Snape's words. "So, Slytherin was lying. You didn't kill her."

"No, Mr. Malfoy," replied Snape. "I did not kill the Evans girl. But I played a crucial role in her demise, and I've never forgiven myself for it."

Draco fidgeted with a loose thread on his shirt. "Professor, do you remember what you said about the Patronus Charm? How its form can change based on certain occurrences in a person's life?"

Snape nodded.

"Yours was the same as hers, wasn't it?" he asked. "Didn't you say that? Because you fell in love with her?"

"It was," Snape replied. "But that happened before I gained the magical skill necessary to produce a Patronus, ergo mine never changed. It was always the same as hers, and it will always be, provided I don't come to love another."

Draco tapped his chin thoughtfully. "It's interesting. So, if I were to fall in love with someone, there's a possibility that mine would change?"

"It's possible," Snape answered. "Now, why don't you run along? As I understand it, you've had quite a trying day, have you not?"

Draco shrugged, deducing that Snape already knew what had happened to his parents. "I suppose."

Snape flicked his wand, and the door of the Potions room opened. "Goodnight then, Mr. Malfoy," he said sternly. "Get yourself some rest."

"Yes, sir," Draco mumbled. He backed out of the room slowly, not wanting to agitate his professor any further. The moment he stepped across the threshold, the door shut, and Draco took off down the hallway, wondering whether or not it would be a good idea to continue practicing. He stopped at a tall stone window, watching the heavy, fluffy snowflakes fall lazily to the ground. It hadn't picked up yet, but if Draco's predictions were right-and they usually were-there would be one hell of a blizzard coming that night, as well as several more inches of snow.

Steeling himself, Draco shoved his hands in his pockets and pushed his way out into the snow. He trudged along, not even bothering to care that he was breaking the rules by venturing outside the castle walls by himself. There wasn't a single ounce of him that wanted to be around people at the moment; he required solitude, and nothing else.

Eventually, Draco made his way to a hillside scattered with large stone formations, not too far from the gamekeeper's hut. He sat down with his back to one, trying to ignore the bite of the cold wind against his face. The countryside was a thick, white blanket of snow by now, and he could barely make out where another hill stopped and where the next one started. He squinted at the horizon, wondering what would happen if he didn't move from that spot for the rest of the day, if he just sat there and froze.

He produced his wand from his pocket, spinning it around between his fingers, and sighed. _No. My parents would want me to carry on. They wouldn't want to see me like this, wallowing in sadness and self-pity. It's deplorable._

"_Expecto Patronum_," he said softly. In a second, the corporeal otter appeared in front of him, its silver sheen making it nearly impossible to see against the snowy landscape. The otter flitted around his legs, circling into the air and nosediving, before finally disappearing near his head. Draco couldn't help but tell himself, "Damn it, Granger was right. I have to stay here and help. There are innocent people in this castle who need all the help they can get."

"Draco? Is that you?"

He flinched. Speaking of Granger…

Sure enough, Hermione herself soon appeared in his line of sight. She had his scarf wrapped around her neck, along with her normal hat and coat. Her hands were shoved deep into her pockets to keep them from the cold, and her boots were caked with thick snow. "What are you doing out here?" she called.

His teeth chattered. "Just thinking about things, Granger!"

She reached his side and sat down. "You know it's only going to get colder. Why don't you come inside?"

"I'm perfectly content out here, for your information," Draco replied. "Now, what are you doing out here?"

"The Hog's Head was closed," she answered. "Someone told us that the grumpy old man who runs the place wasn't feeling the weather. Didn't suit his fancy, I guess. So he didn't bother opening up shop. A lot of the stores in Hogsmeade are closed for the same reason."

Draco kicked at a hard clump of snow nearby. "Figures."

She eyed him with concern. "What are you doing out here, anyway?" she asked. "Forgive me for being nosy. I know you said you were thinking. But about what in particular?"

Draco lowered his eyes. "My parents," he mumbled.

Hermione's expression softened, and she laid a hand on his shoulder. "What about them?"

"How they wouldn't want to see me out here by myself, ready to give up," he murmured. "I know I'm better than this."

Hermione nodded. "You are," she agreed. "That's a fact I've known about you for a while now. Tell me...do you think it would it help to talk about them?"

He glanced up at her. "What do you mean?"

She smiled. "I mean talking about your parents. Telling me what they were like. Talking about them may help more than you know."

Draco thought her notion was absurd, but he'd had that thought many times; Hermione would often make a suggestion, and the people closest to her would find it ridiculous beyond all measure, but usually, that suggestion ended up working in their favor. He sighed. "I guess."

Hermione situated herself next to him, a hopeful look in her eyes. "So? What were they like?"

He shrugged. "They both possessed pure-blood ideals. Disliked most anything associated with Muggles. My father was the worst about it, but sometimes, my mother could have more of an open mind."

"What was she like?" Hermione asked. "I never met her."

Draco shrugged again. "She knew her place. I'll tell you, she and my father enjoyed being members of the social elite. And they were popular among families who held the same degree of wealth and power as they did. But my mother wasn't all bad. She's actually the reason I ended up at Hogwarts in the first place, you know."

"Really? Do tell," said Hermione.

"Well," Draco continued, "my father thought it better for me to attend Durmstrang Institute. You know, that school up north that favors the Dark Arts and doesn't admit Muggle-borns? They participate in the Triwizard Tournament, they-"

Hermione winced. "I'm familiar with the school, Draco," she said curtly.

Draco's smile morphed into a frown; he hadn't exactly meant to mention the school's negative view on admitting Muggle-born witches and wizards, but it seemed that not all students who attended Durmstrang shared that opinion; Hermione had actually attended the Yule Ball two years before with Viktor Krum, who didn't seem the least bit prejudiced toward her. "Of course you are."

"Go on, then," she goaded.

Draco sighed. "Well, anyway, my father wanted me to go there. He thought that they took to a more practical approach in terms of the Dark Arts, when compared to Hogwarts," he went on. "And I think my father was close with the school's Headmaster at one point or another. So maybe that could have been a part of it. But my mother disagreed with him. She didn't want me going off that far north on my own. It made her uneasy, so she convinced my father to send me to Hogwarts instead."

A snowflake flew into Hermione's eye, and she rubbed at it vigorously. "Do you think that the reason your father wanted you at Durmstrang was because of his own views on blood status?" she asked. "Maybe he thought it would have had a big influence on you. Bigger than Hogwarts, I mean."

"Could be," Draco replied. "But I've always suspected that my mother didn't hold the same views as my father. At least, not all of them."

Hermione cocked her head. "Explain?"

"She didn't seem to despise Muggle-borns nearly as much as my father did," Draco murmured, sticking his finger into the snow. "Oh sure, she disguised that when in public, seeming just as cold about the whole thing as my father. But in private...well, let's just say she wasn't exactly the fanatical, pure-blood idealist that she led others on to believe she was."

Hermione nodded thoughtfully. "So she approved of Muggle-borns? She didn't think they were total scum?" she asked eagerly.

"I didn't say that," Draco said sternly, causing Hermione's hopeful smile to wilt. "She still didn't like them. Thought them to be dirty-blooded and all that. But unlike my father and the rest of the pure-blood families that they associated with, she was much more open with them. Didn't take them for much, but she acknowledged that there were many skilled witches and wizards of no magical descent, and that they weren't a complete waste of space, either."

Hermione folded her arms. "And I suppose you took after your father when you were younger?" she asked, a hint of bitterness in her tone.

Draco nodded, fixating his gaze on a bird that had landed in a tree nearby. "I did. But my mother tried to change that," he said softly. "When my father wasn't around. And it sort of worked."

"If it worked, why did you continue belittling me and every other Muggle-born in the school, then?" Hermione asked. "You say that it worked, yet at times, it seemed the exact opposite."

"We had this conversation earlier, Granger."

"But you didn't give me a straight answer."

"Yes, I did."

"Your family's pure-blood ideals are _not_ a straight answer."

Draco sighed. "Then maybe I can't give you an answer right now," he muttered, turning away from her.

Hermione patted his hand. "I'm sorry I pushed," she said quietly. "This whole situation is very confusing for me."

"I know," Draco replied, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. "Why don't we just talk about something else?"

Hermione said nothing, and laid her head on his shoulder instead, nuzzling him ever so gently. The feeling was oddly comforting not just to her, but to Draco as well, and he leaned back against the rock fixture to watch the snow, slipping his arm protectively around her shoulders. The snow was beginning to pick up a bit; it was coming down harder than before, and the snowflakes were flying off in every direction, as if someone had violently shaken up a snowglobe. The sight was a mesmerizing one, though, and Draco couldn't have been more content than he was in that moment.

He sat there in complete silence for several minutes, watching the falling snowflakes with wonder, before he heard Hermione's tired voice. "Draco?"

"What is it, flower?" he asked, involuntarily pulling her closer.

He felt Hermione tense up. "Do you think we stand a chance? Against the Dementors, I mean?" she asked slowly.

Draco's heart dropped. Hermione didn't easily get scared, and she rarely admitted when she was. But as much as she didn't want to admit it to anyone, he knew very well how terrified of Dementors she really was. Unlike many of the other students at Hogwarts, much less those in her own year, she'd actually seen the dark creatures in action herself...along with Harry Potter, of course. And those firsthand experiences had left a permanent, scarring mark on her life. It was a memory that she would not soon be able to forget, if at all. He wished he could understand the full extent of her terror; he'd never come into contact with a Dementor himself, but from what he had been told, they were not pleasant creatures to encounter, no matter what the situation happened to be.

"Yes, Granger. I think we do stand a chance."

He felt Hermione's damp, gloved hand squeeze his own. "Do you think they'll really come here, to Hogwarts?" she murmured. "They could attack _anyone_, you know. They could perform the Dementor's Kiss on _anyone_, student or staff. Anyone who isn't prepared."

Draco looked down at her and smiled. "Well, we're lucky we have such talented members of Dumbledore's Army to protect us, then, aren't we?" he said proudly.

Hermione's cheeks turned pink. "I suppose."

They sat there for a little while longer, huddled together against the stone formation and watching the snowflakes fly about and the clouds darken ominously overhead. It picked up significantly within the next half hour, with the windchill dropping well below freezing, before Hermione finally suggested that they go back inside the castle. It was nearly nightfall anyway, and neither of them really fancied getting caught in a blizzard at that very moment. Hypothermia didn't sound too great, either.

With Hermione's help, Draco managed to stagger to his feet. He nearly stumbled where he stood; his feet were so frozen that he could barely move, and he cursed himself for not bothering to move them around at all to keep them from going numb. Regardless, he lumbered back to the castle, relaxing as his feet gained feeling the more he trudged through the snow. Hermione tried to hide her giggles as best she could, but several faux death glares from Draco told her that she was not succeeding.

They finally made it back to the castle, and Draco sat down on the sill of the window, breathing hard. "It's going to get ugly out there," he said, looking out into the distance. "We'd better get back to our dormitories before one of the Heads catches us. I just need to rest for a moment."

Hermione nodded. "I agree. Will I see you tomorrow?"

"Of course, love," Draco assured her. "Count on it."

The bushy-haired Gryffindor grinned. "Good." She bent down and gently pressed her lips to Draco's, relishing the cinnamon taste of his mouth and the comforting warmth of his lips. After a moment, she pulled away, resting her forehead on his. "Goodnight, Ferret."

He smirked. "Goodnight, my lovely know-it-all."

Hermione stuck her tongue out playfully. "Don't stay out here too late." And with that, she cheerfully skipped off toward the Gryffindor dormitory, with Draco smiling after her.

...

...

By the time she reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, Hermione was freezing. The wind had worsened and the temperature had plummeted at least a few degrees. The Fat Lady spotted her and gasped, "Miss Granger! What in the world are you doing, running about in this horrid weather?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Nothing. Verus Amore."

The Fat Lady laid a scolding look upon her, but said no more as the door creaked open. Hermione stumbled inside, letting out a breath of relief as the warmth of the lights and the fire spread over her cold face. She wandered into the common room, intent on sitting down by the fire until she was warm and toasty, but a sight stopped her in her tracks.

Several of her fellow Gryffindors were lounging around the room, but not a single one looked relaxed in the slightest. Neville stared at the clock with wide eyes, as if he were in a trance. Ginny and Parvati whispered together worriedly, but stopped the moment Hermione entered the common room. Harry had a book in his lap, and Ron was reading it over his shoulder, skimming the pages rapidly. Hannah Abbott, a tall Hufflepuff girl in their year, was curled up by the fire, rocking back and forth. Seamus stood up when he saw Hermione. "Oi, Granger. Where the bloody hell were you?!" he demanded. "Breaking the rules again?"

"Knock it off, Seamus," Dean muttered. "The point is, she's back now."

Hermione looked from Dean to Seamus as confusion overtook her. "What's going on here?"

"We had to cover your arse, that's what's going on!" Seamus shouted. "Professor McGonagall just left, and she asked us where you were, so we had to make up all these lies to make sure you didn't get in trouble, and it's a sodding good thing we did, too, or else-"

Dean irritably clamped a hand over Seamus' mouth. "The point is, McGonagall came in with some news," he said grimly. "More people have fallen to the Dementors."

Hermione froze. "_More_ people?" she asked. "That can't be true."

"It is," Harry said sadly. "None of them were Muggles, but most of them were still innocent. The Dementors are desperate for the souls of those Death Eaters, they'll dispatch anyone to get to them."

Eyeing her friends, Hermione slowly slid into a chair. "So, um...who else was it? Who else did they get?"

Ginny cleared her throat. "A longtime watchwizard, Eric Munch," she said slowly. "Not the most likeable man, but still. And let's see, there's...Perkins, I think was his name. He worked with Dad in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office for several years. Had him over for Christmas when I was twelve. He gave me an enchanted tea set."

"Not relevant, Ginny," Ron muttered.

She shot a glare at him, and Hannah spoke up. "Wasn't there someone named Mickare?" she asked. "Or Walter somebody?"

"Walden Macnair," Harry corrected. "Worked for the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. Don't you remember, Hermione? He was the one who executed Buckbeak in our third year."

"Right," Hermione murmured, going back to the memory and shuddering. Though she and Harry had been able to fix the situation and save Buckbeak, that didn't make the hippogriff's death any less brutal to look back on.

Cho Chang, who Hermione hadn't noticed sitting in the corner, rose to her feet. "My mother worked with him, before she was sacked," she said. "I remember her telling me that she saw the Dark Mark on his arm during a meeting once. He was a Death Eater."

"Then I don't sympathize with him," Seamus said. "He deserved what he got."

Hermione ignored him. "Who else?"

"Wimple," Ron said. "Gilbert Wimple. The one with the odd-looking horns, Committee on Experimental Charms? Mum and Dad had him over for dinner and tea once. Nice chap."

"Not relevant, Ron," Ginny snickered mockingly.

Ron opened his mouth to shoot an angry remark back at her, but Harry put a hand on his arm, signaling that he needed to keep his mouth shut. "Kingsley escaped from the Ministry before he could be attacked," he said. "So did Mr. Weasley and Percy. Loads of Ministry officials managed to get away, but they might not be so lucky next time."

Hermione crossed her arms. "Do they not know how to defend themselves?" she demanded. "Would they not take precautions if they were already informed of the threat?"

"I don't know," Hannah murmured. "Isn't there any way to stop these attacks? No more lives need to be lost."

Dean nodded. "The only way the attacks will stop is if they find all the Death Eaters and...kill them, I guess." He gulped, clearly uncomfortable with the idea.

Harry sighed, looking around nervously at his peers. "But we still have to fight. If they come for us, we've got to fight."

"Maybe if the Death Eater is still within Hogwarts' walls when the Dementors attack, we can drive them away and they won't return," Hermione suggested. "Maybe they'll give up."

Parvati's mouth dropped open. "There's a Death Eater here?" she exclaimed. "And you're just telling us this now?"

Harry shrugged. "It's the only logical explanation, Parvati. Think about it. Why else would the Dementors come to Hogwarts if there wasn't one? They're after them specifically."

"Good point," Seamus said thoughtfully. "I suppose it's possible."

Neville rocked back and forth. "We can't...kill them, can we?"

"No wizard has ever managed to kill a Dementor, Longbottom," Hannah said grimly. "I really don't think it can be done."

Hermione nodded. "Hannah's right. We won't be able to kill them. All we can do is strip them of their resources, and hope that they'll die off eventually."

"That could take a long time. We have days, at most," Dean said quietly. "I hate this."

"Me, too," Neville murmured.

Harry and Ron nodded in agreement, and Ginny cleared her throat. "Well, don't you feel it would be wise for all of us to get some rest? We know there's an attack coming...might not be a bad idea to rest ourselves before it does."

She got faint nods of approval from her classmates, and slowly, the entire group began to disperse. Seamus and Dean sprinted up to the boys' dormitory, with Neville following along closely behind them. Cho retreated from the common room, sending a sad glance at Hermione on her way out. Hannah Abbott left as well, and Ginny followed Harry and Ron up the stairs, heading off to her own dormitory to retire for the night. Hermione motioned to Parvati, and the two girls trudged up the stairs to their dormitory, exhausted. Hermione flopped down on her bed, while Parvati daintily sat down on hers. "This whole thing is truly frightening, Hermione," she said softly. "I'm scared."

Hermione curled up underneath her covers and squeezed her eyes shut tightly. "I am, too," she agreed, trying to shake the fear from her trembling voice.

And the two girls fell into an extraordinarily restless sleep that night, terrified of what the next few days were sure to bring.**A/N: Okay, I know what you might be thinking. Holy crap, Dumbledore, you cotton-headed ninny muggins. And yes, that he is. This is just one of those situations where a plan makes sense in someone's mind, and their heart is in the right place, but it's simply not the best decision to make. Anyway, I hope you guys liked this chapter! I hope to update again soon-ish, so stay tuned. We're getting to the 'calm before the storm'. Feel free to leave a review and tell me what you think! Happy reading! **

**-BlackthornUnicorn98**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hello, lovelies. Once again, another update that should have happened way sooner than it actually did. I can't help it, alright? Life happens :)**

**Anyway, here is Part 1 of Day 6. It isn't too eventful, but that was done on purpose, I promise. As usual, OOC moments here and there, and more cliche romance moments. Enjoy!**

**IS IT LOVE?: A DRAMIONE STORY**

**Chapter 10: Apples, Forest Walks, and Loving Confessions**

**(Day 6, Part 1)**

The following morning was a hard one. For reasons Draco couldn't exactly explain, he was having an enormous amount of trouble forcing himself to get up and around his dormitory. He couldn't tell if he simply hadn't slept well, or long enough, or what the problem was...all he knew was that he was exhausted, he missed Hermione, and his stomach was growling extremely loudly.

The tired Slytherin sauntered down to the Great Hall, entranced by the heavenly smell of pancakes and maple syrup wafting through the corridors. As he entered the room, attempting to ignore the loud chatter going on around him, his eyes fell on the Gryffindor table. As usual, Harry and Ron were seated across from one another, munching wholeheartedly on their food. Neville Longbottom sat nearby, as did Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas. But as he neared the table, he noticed something odd.

Hermione was nowhere to be seen.

A wave of worry fell over Draco, and before he knew what he was doing, he walked right up to Harry. "Morning, Potter. Where is she?"

Harry stopped, his pancake-infested fork halfway to his mouth. "Where's who, exactly?" he asked.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Granger. Where's Granger?"

"She's not here, Malfoy," Ron piped up. "Now buzz off, will you? Some of us want to enjoy our breakfast, and you're not making it that easy."

"I know she's not here, you idiot," Draco grumbled. "I can see that for myself, believe it or not. Now, where is she?"

Harry smirked. "Worried about your girlfriend, are you?"

Draco said nothing, stonily glaring at his longtime nemesis.

Ginny Weasley, who was seated next to Ron, spoke up. "Don't get your panties in a twist, Malfoy," she said. "Hermione's still in Gryffindor Tower. Studying, I think. Can you believe that? On a Saturday!"

"She's completely mental," Ron agreed.

Draco breathed a sigh of relief at Ginny's words. For a moment, he'd been terrified that something had happened to her...Hermione wasn't one to miss a meal, ever. "Would you tell her that I'm looking for her?" he asked.

Parvati piped up next, peeking out from behind Harry. "If you want to spend some time with Hermione, why don't you come down to the Quidditch pitch in an hour?" she asked.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "And why exactly would I want to do that?"

"A bunch of us are going to go play in the snow," she said excitedly. "And Hermione's going to be there, too. Why don't you join? You might enjoy yourself, you know."

Draco wrinkled his nose. He had never really been one for playing in the snow...well, except for that one little snowball fight earlier in the week. But he shrugged. "Okay. I'll be there."

Parvati exchanged a grin with Ginny, and the two of them went back to eating their breakfast. Draco blinked, feeling a little bit dumbfounded, but nevertheless excited. He headed off toward the Slytherin table without another word, leaving Ron and Harry to shoot death glares at their two giddy housemates.

Eventually, breakfast came to an end, and Parvati and Ginny took off without bothering to wait for Harry or Ron. They raced through the Hogwarts corridors at lightning speed, giggling like four-year-olds. It wasn't exactly any big secret that Ginny and Parvati completely supported Hermione's relationship with Draco, odd as it was. And they would continue to support it for as long as it was able to last.

The two girls rushed into the Gryffindor common room, earning strange looks from Cormac McLaggen, who was stabbing his quill into the stone wall, and Colin Creevey, who had been concentrating on a giant book. They raced up the stairs to the girls' dormitory, bursting in loudly. Hermione was laying on her bed, totally immersed in her Potions book, and looked up. "Are you alright?" she asked.

Ginny and Parvati grinned at one another again, eliciting a confused and slightly uncomfortable look from Hermione. "Alright, you two, what's going on?"

"You have to come with us," Ginny urged.

"For what?" Hermione asked. "I have to study for the Potions exam, and there's so much more I have to do, and-"

"You know what? That's it!" Parvati exclaimed, startling her friend. She stepped forward and snatched Hermione's book from her. "Hermione, it's a Saturday morning, and you're studying. Studying! You should be at breakfast, or going to Hogsmeade to buy candy, or roaming about the castle without a care in the world. Not wasting your life away studying for an exam, and on a weekend at that!"

Hermione sat up and crossed her arms. "In case you haven't noticed, there's more than a foot of snow on the ground!" she said irritably. "And breakfast is almost over, so there's no point in going. Now, give me my book back!"

She grabbed for her book, but Parvati swiped it away. "Tell you what," she said. "I'll give you your boring book back...if you come with us first. Do we have an accord?"

Hermione sat back and pouted. "Fine. What are we doing?"

Ginny spoke next. "We're going out to the Quidditch pitch to play in the snow," she said. "And trust me, you want to be there."

"Why?" Hermione demanded. "Why would I want to waste my morning with that when I could be studying?"

Parvati smiled slyly. "Because if you go, Malfoy will be there, too."

The moment she heard her roommate's words, a smile appeared on Hermione's face. The thought of seeing Draco warmed her insides spectacularly, and she sighed. "Okay, fine. I'll go."

Parvati and Ginny squealed in delight and motioned for Hermione to get ready. All three girls excitedly rummaged through their belongings, looking for the appropriate attire for the occasion. Hermione slipped on her normal coat and gloves, before borrowing a soft, thick hat from Ginny; apparently, Molly Weasley had gotten into the habit of making wool hats for the various members of her family now, and she'd become quite adept at it in preparation for the winter months. Hermione also located Draco's scarf, which had been hanging on her bedpost since the last time she had worn it, and slipped it around her neck. It still held his familiar peppermint scent on it, and the smell brought her the smallest bit of comfort. She sighed dreamily at the thought of him, but shook herself out of that thought when it became clear that Parvati and Ginny were ready to go. The three Gryffindors took off down the staircase, excitement coursing through them all.

The girls reached the common room and spotted Lavender and Romilda, gossiping to one another by the fire. "Where are you three off to in such a rush?" Lavender asked.

"Didn't you hear?" Ginny questioned. "A bunch of us are going down to the Quidditch pitch for some fun in the snow."

Parvati nodded in agreement. "It'll be great! You two want to come along with us?" she asked. "Anyone is welcome."

Lavender shrugged. "If there's any chance that Ron will be going, you can count me out," she mumbled sadly.

Hermione frowned. She'd temporarily forgotten about the issues that had been happening between Ron and Lavender lately. "I understand," she said sympathetically. "You do what you need to do."

"Thanks for understanding, Hermione," Lavender said softly. "You guys have fun. And Hermione, if you happen to get the chance, I don't think it would hurt for Ron to _accidentally_ get a snowball to the face, if you know what I'm saying."

Ginny sniggered. "If the opportunity comes up, Lav, I'll do it myself," she said slyly.

Romilda and Lavender chuckled, and waved as their housemates headed out of the common room.

...

...

Before long, Ginny, Parvati, and Hermione had arrived at the Quidditch pitch. Several students were already there, throwing snowballs and making a variety of forts and other structures out of the huge mounds of snow. Hermione and Ginny set to work building a snowman, while Parvati joined Padma in her attempts to hit Michael Corner with a snowball for splattering pumpkin juice all over her during breakfast.

Ginny began to put together a large ball of snow. "When I was little, my brothers and I would do this all the time," she murmured. "Only, they would usually end up destroying whatever I made. And then Mum would ground them for a week, so I guess it all worked out in the end."

Hermione continued to roll her own ball of snow around. "That doesn't seem like something they'd do," she countered. "Maybe Fred and George, but not Percy or Ron."

"Oh, they did it all the time," Ginny laughed, placing two long, brown sticks through the side of the snowball. "Especially Ronald. But I got them all back plenty of times, though, don't you worry. Filling their sweaters with Invisi-Goop from Zonko's Joke shop was always a hoot and a half."

Hermione slapped her hand over her mouth. "You didn't!"

"Call it payback," quipped Ginny. "Besides, Mum and Dad never found out it was me."

Hermione giggled, and placed her snowball on top of Ginny's. "There. Now we have to put a hat and scarf on it." She slid off Draco's scarf and wrapped it around the area that was technically considered the snowman's 'neck', and Ginny placed her knitted hat on its head. Then, to Ginny's surprise, Hermione gave a tiny flick of her wand, and the snowman sprang to life. "Why don't we exact some more payback on your brother? For you, _and_ for Lavender," Hermione said, a diabolical smile etched upon her face.

Ginny grinned, and nodded to signify her unconditional approval. Hermione waved her wand again, eyeing Ron and Harry in the distance, and the snowman went shooting through the air. Harry saw it coming first, and he screamed for Ron to duck out of the way, but it was too late. The snowman clobbered the redhead into a giant pile of snow near one of the Quidditch posts, and Hermione and Ginny both burst out laughing. Harry tried to yank the glob of snow away from his friend, but it was no use. Both boys were overpowered, and they ended up being shoved faces-first into the snow.

"Brilliant work, Hermione!" Ginny exclaimed, giving her best friend a high-five. "They'll never know what hit them!"

Hermione watched as Ron and Harry scrambled to their feet and ran away from the snowman, and soon, it came flying back to them. "Who doesn't love playing pranks on their friends every once in a while?" she said, taking her scarf back and handing Ginny her hat.

Before long, a massive snowball fight ensued. No one could be one hundred percent sure who or what started it, but Hermione suspected it might have been Seamus Finnigan. Nevertheless, she and Ginny ran to and fro, pelting everyone they could with snowballs and taking cover whenever possible.

The entire group of students ignored the warnings of Professor McGonagall and Madam Hooch, who had been sent to supervise the activities, and the chaos continued for quite a long time. Professor Sprout even attempted to get in on the fun, before being warned by Hooch that they were there to supervise, not partake. Though her words didn't make the Hufflepuff Head happy, she knew better than to argue.

Meanwhile, Hermione and Ginny had encountered Luna Lovegood and Padma Patil, who were hiding from a particularly aggressive group of Ravenclaw boys who were looking for them to exact their revenge, in exchange for the girls ambushing them with snowballs. Hermione was telling Luna that if those boys came near them, they'd get an avalanche of snow in their faces, when she saw a figure standing at the end of the Quidditch pitch, watching the snowball fight go on. Immediately, Hermione recognized the blonde hair that was so easily distinguishable as Draco Malfoy's, and she excused herself from her friends for a moment.

"Draco!" she shouted, running up to him. "Come join us!"

"I just came to watch," he replied softly.

She began to tug on his hand. "Come on, Draco. Have some fun, would you?" she implored.

Draco shook his head. "I'm content with watching, Granger," he said patiently. "Why don't you go on? It looked like you were having fun."

"I was," replied Hermione. "I _am_. But I want you to have fun, too."

Draco shrugged, and sat down at the very edge of the Quidditch pitch. He continued to watch the chaotic snowball fight, and began to snicker when Ron Weasley got hit square in the face with a snowball that sent him flying backward into the snow.

Hermione watched for a moment as well, before brightening and clearing her throat. "I have an idea," she said. "Come on!"

She tugged on Draco's hand, trying to pull him up from the ground. "What is it, Granger?" he asked. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see," Hermione said mysteriously. She yanked on his arm, dragging him away from the Quidditch pitch…and away from the castle. Draco knew that wherever she was taking him, it was inevitably against the rules. But at the moment, he didn't care.

Hermione clumsily ran down the hill, taking extra care to stay out of the view of Sprout, Hooch, and McGonagall. Draco followed obediently, trudging through the snow and ignoring the fact that it had somehow made its way into his shoes and socks.

After a few moments, Draco noticed that they were nearing the gamekeeper's hut. "Why are we here?" he asked carefully, wondering why in the world Hermione would duck out of a snowball fight with him to visit Rubeus Hagrid.

Hermione didn't answer, and instead, she ran up to the door of Hagrid's hut and knocked. The giant answered just seconds later, and he seemed absolutely delighted to see Hermione. "Aye, what in the world are you doing here?" he asked. "Come for tea?"

She shook her head. "Not this time, Hagrid. I was wondering if I could have a bag of apples."

At her words, Hagrid grinned. "Why, of course yeh can!" he boomed. "But, uh…do yeh think it's the greatest idea to take that there Malfoy boy with you? Considerin'—"

"He'll be fine," Hermione assured him. "Really."

"Well, alright," Hagrid said, handing her a large bag of apples. "I suppose you know what you're doing."

Hermione slung the bag over her shoulder. "Thanks, Hagrid!" she exclaimed cheerfully. With that, she skipped back down the steps and headed off toward the Forbidden Forest, with a very confused Draco following behind her.

As the two entered the Forest, Draco began to feel uneasy. He hadn't the faintest idea where Hermione could be taking him, or _what _she could be taking him to. And she wasn't usually one to go against the rules, either. Nevertheless, he continued to follow her for several minutes until they came to a wide, unfamiliar clearing that didn't seem like it really belonged in the Forbidden Forest. "Uh, Granger?" Draco asked nervously. "What exactly are we doing here?"

Hermione smiled. "I have a friend that I would like for you to meet," she said simply, walking toward a little alcove and bending down. "Here, Misty. Come on, girl."

She tossed an apple out in front of her, and Draco was surprised to see a tiny baby hippogriff stumble out of the darkness. The creature couldn't have been more than two feet tall, with scrawny legs and an uneven array of feathers decorating her little body. Draco watched as she knelt down to the ground, sniffed the apple, and proceeded to take a huge bite out of it. She chewed contentedly, nuzzling Hermione's hand as she did so.

Draco dropped to his knees, continuing to watch the little creature devour her food at lightning speed. "Uh, Granger? Where exactly did the gamekeeper get a baby hippogriff?" he asked.

Hermione stroked Misty's head. "He found her earlier this week," she explained. "All by herself. We don't know what happened to her parents."

Draco felt a twinge of sadness. "So, she's an orphan?"

"I guess so," Hermione replied softly. "But Hagrid asked Harry, Ron and me to help him look after her. Because we're all fond of hippogriffs, and he knew that we'd keep her a secret."

At her words, Draco looked up. "Why do we have to keep this a secret?" he asked.

"Hagrid isn't legally allowed to keep Misty as a pet," Hermione explained. "It was outlawed three years ago, when you decided to...I mean, when Buckbeak attacked you."

Draco frowned. "I know what I did. I was an idiot back then," he muttered irritably.

Hermione nodded. "Yes, you were. And now that you know about Misty, I expect you to keep all this to yourself. Swear it."

Draco met his girlfriend's eyes, and the desperate look in her eyes made him soften. "Alright, Granger. I swear I won't say anything about her."

Hermione smiled. "Good. Now, here." She tossed him an apple from the bag, and Misty's attention turned to him. "Just hold it out to her, and she'll eat it."

Draco glanced over at the baby hippogriff, who had begun waddling toward him on unstable legs. He tentatively held out the apple, and she looked up at him curiously, sniffing his hand. All of a sudden, a squawk escaped the tiny creature's mouth, and she greedily snatched the apple from his hand, tearing into it hungrily. Draco couldn't help but snicker, and turned to Hermione. "Well, I don't think she hates me."

"Of course she doesn't," Hermione replied. "If she did, we would know. Trust me."

He thought back to that day in class during which he'd managed to provoke Buckbeak, and chuckled. "I suppose we would."

Hermione said nothing, and took another apple out of the large bag, nervously passing it back and forth between her hands. Draco opted to say nothing more, and they sat in silence for a while, taking turns feeding Misty the apples that she loved so much. During this time, Draco's mind began to wander back to the day of the love potion incident, and for the first time since Tuesday, he actually began to ponder his feelings that had existed for Hermione _before_ Neville's cauldron had exploded all over them.

His feelings for her had changed drastically in those couple of minutes, that much he already knew, but it was actually starting to make him the slightest bit uncomfortable. To know that she had once been one of the people he abhorred the most-at least some of the time-was downright unbearable for him to think about. How he had treated her, what he'd seen her as...he couldn't imagine feeling those feelings toward her anymore. Not even if the love potion wore off; even then, no matter how much he thought about it or tried to concoct the scenario in his mind, he simply couldn't see himself hating her anymore. Knowing the passion and understanding that had come to exist between the two of them made it so much harder for him to see her as the irritating, loathsome Mudblood he'd taken her for in the past. The idea was practically incomprehensible.

After tossing Misty another apple, Draco snuck a glance at Hermione, who was busy snapping various twigs into small pieces and watching Misty devour her food. He couldn't help but be entranced by the way her honey-colored eyes sparkled with laughter and spirit when they were together, whether they were sitting at breakfast, playing out in the snow, or even sitting in silence in the middle of the woods; it didn't matter. The sparkle brought out something new in him, something he couldn't quite define in words. Looking into her eyes brought him feelings of comfort that were unfamiliar to him; generally, the only person who had been able to calm him and make him feel at peace was his mother. Draco didn't want to think about the moment when that sparkle would inevitably fade away, and she would look upon him with disgust and anger again. The idea made his heart ache terribly, and he began to realize how desperately he really, truly didn't want to lose her, no matter the circumstances.

He couldn't lose her. He _wouldn't._

"Granger?" Draco blurted out, before covering his mouth and mentally scolding himself. He hadn't meant to actually say anything; he had been so deeply lost in thought that his sense of reality actually managed to escape him.

Hermione glanced up. "What is it, Draco?" she asked.

He was at a loss for words. "Uh, I...uh, you...you know, we, um-"

Hermione crawled over to him, a worried look on her beautiful face. "Draco, are you alright? Are you cold? Do we need to go back inside?"

Draco squeezed his eyes shut. "Just promise me something, Granger," he said quietly, trying to steady the shake in his voice.

He felt Hermione take his hand in both of hers, and give him an encouraging squeeze. "Anything, Draco."

Draco sighed, and opened his eyes to see Hermione's earnest concern for his well being, coupled with the powdery array of snowflakes that had accumulated throughout her hair and on top of her eyelashes. To him, she looked like some sort of snow angel sent from above, as childish as it seemed. "Promise me that no matter what happens, I won't lose you," he murmured. "Not to the Dementors, not to the Death Eaters, and not to the love potion eventually wearing off and leaving us right back where we started. Promise me that you'll remember everything that's happened between us, everything we've done together. All the memories, both good and bad, that have come out of these last few days. Please don't let those feelings go. Or forget them."

Hermione seemed a bit surprised by his little speech, but after a moment of contemplation, she smiled sadly. "Draco, I have no control over what happens when the potion wears off," she said sternly. "I don't know if it'll leave us with these memories, or if they'll just turn into a void of nothingness in our minds. I have no way of knowing what will happen to us."

Draco's hold on her hands tightened. "I don't care," he muttered. "Just promise me that you'll at least try to remember."

He felt her thumb just barely grazing over the top of his left knuckle, slow as could be. The feeling was oddly soothing, and began to alleviate a little bit of his stress. "Draco, I promise I'll try," she said softly. "From the bottom of my heart, I promise to try."

Her words sparked something within Draco, and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to him and gripping the back of her coat. She hugged him back, burying her face in his shoulder and patting him lightly on the back, so as to assure him that she wasn't going anywhere. The two sat there for a little while, locked in an embrace of hurt and worry, but also one of affection, care, and comfort. Draco couldn't help but relish the feeling of Hermione's arms protectively caging him in; that was another feeling that he never wanted to forget. He inhaled the peach-and-vanilla scent of her hair that he had grown to love so much, closing his eyes and taking in every moment of their embrace.

...

...

After an unknown length of time, Draco was disappointed to feel Hermione pulling away from him. Despite his urge to tighten his hold around her, he let his arms fall limp at his sides, and her face came into view again as the warmth of her body faded away. She seemed quite calm, almost dazed, and her brown eyes twinkled. "We're going to be fine, alright?" she said, resting her forehead on his and looking into his eyes. "Do you hear me, Draco? Everything is going to turn out exactly the way it was meant to."

He let a halfhearted smile cross his lips, ignoring the notion that there was a possibility of them not being meant to be together. "I know."

Hermione stroked his cheek tenderly with her thumb. "You'd better, Ferret," she said humorously, and touched her lips gently to his. It was a soft kiss, unlike their previous heated, intense snogging sessions, but enrapturing nonetheless. Draco was immediately overtaken with a wave of relief, temporarily easing all of his worries, as he moved his lips slowly over hers, taking in every moment with her. Hermione eventually broke the kiss, and smiled. "Feel better?"

"A bit," Draco admitted sheepishly. "I'm sorry for getting all sentimental on you, but-"

Hermione put a finger to his lips. "Shut up, you," she said firmly. "Don't apologize for something like that."

He simply shrugged, and tossed Misty a couple more apples. "Fine, Granger. Now, would it be alright if we headed back to the castle? I can't feel my toes anymore."

She laughed. "Wuss."

He stood up, and pulled her with him. "Call me a wuss again, I dare you."

Hermione said nothing for a moment, before she threw the empty apple bag directly at his face. "You're a wuss!" she shouted. "Draco Malfoy is a wuss!" And with that, she took off running toward the castle again, giggling as she went.

Draco furiously swiped the bag away. "Granger! Are you mental?!" he shouted. "Hey, wait up!" And he took off running after her, feigning anger at her actions but internally loving how innocent and playful she could be.

The chase continued for several minutes, and the closer they got to Hogwarts, the more Draco began to realize that Hermione was faltering. He took the opportunity to catch up to her, before launching a sneak attack and tackling her to the ground, immersing them both in the freezing cold snow. "Hey! Would you knock it off?" Hermione hollered.

"Not a chance, Granger!" Draco crowed triumphantly.

Hermione struggled fiercely against his grip. "Come on, Draco! Let me up! There's snow in my ears!" she shouted, jerking her head back and forth.

Draco looked down at the beautiful girl writhing beneath him in the snow, and before he could stop himself, he exclaimed, "God damn it, Granger, I love you!"

Hermione immediately froze, and Draco realized what he'd said. "Shit. I, uh, well...what I meant was-"

"Draco," Hermione interrupted. "You...you what?"

He flinched. "I know I'm not supposed to. I know this isn't real. But...I just couldn't help it. These feelings that I've felt for you, I've never felt them for anyone else. Not ever. And, uh, you're really pretty. Especially with snow in your hair, you know? And I don't know, I guess-"

He was cut off by Hermione pecking him gently on the nose. "I love you too, Draco," she murmured. "For as long as I can, and for as long as all this lasts."

Draco became utterly overjoyed at hearing her words, but he managed to quell his excitement and smile calmly. "Good," he replied. "Now, where was I again? Oh yeah!"

The moment the words flew out of his mouth, he snatched Hermione's-er, Ginny's-wool hat off her head and took off for the castle, laughing maniacally. Hermione scrambled to her feet. "Hey! That's not mine! Give it back!" she yelled after him.

Draco continued to run, waving the hat over his head. "You have to catch me first, Granger!" he shouted back.

Hermione gave an irritated grunt, and sprinted furiously after him. Neither of the two teenagers noticed the sullen, shadowed face of Professor Snape, looking down at them from the lowest window of the East Tower. He'd seen-and heard-everything that had happened.

...

...

By the time Hermione finally caught up to Draco, he'd nearly managed to make it to Gryffindor Tower. Hermione used her remaining strength to leap up onto his shoulders clumsily and snatch the hat back from him. Draco was so taken by surprise that he stumbled to the ground, bringing Hermione right on top of him. She grinned excitedly, shaking the hat around in the air. "Aha! Take that, Malfoy!" she cried.

He rolled his eyes. "Oh boy, Granger. You finally got me," he said in a monotonous tone. "Now, let me up, would you? This floor is hurting me."

"Oh, fine," she replied, jumping to her feet. "Come on." She took Draco's hand and managed to pull him up from the floor, despite how worn out she had become from their chase.

Draco looked down at his girlfriend, and cleared his throat. "I have to go do some schoolwork," he said, willing himself to look Hermione in the eyes. "Will I see you for dinner?"

She nodded eagerly. "Of course."

He smiled, and kissed her gently on the forehead. "Good. Later, then."

As Draco headed down the corridor, he heard Hermione call out to him. "Draco?"

"Yeah?" he asked, turning around.

Hermione smiled brightly. "I...I love you."

Attempting to hide how happy her words actually made him, Draco simply smiled back at her. "I love you too, Granger. Irritating as you can be sometimes."

Hermione gave an innocent wave and turned to go into the Gryffindor common room. At the same time, Draco headed back to his own common room, marveling over a secret that he couldn't wait to reveal.

As Hermione entered the common room, she was met with the faces of many of her classmates that had been involved in the massive snowball fight that had taken place a couple of hours before. However, as her gaze wandered around the room, she steadily began to realize that none of their faces looked very happy. In fact, the group gathered was quite a dismal-looking bunch. "Hello, everyone," Hermione said nervously.

Ginny stood up and engulfed Hermione in a hug. "Where were you?!" she demanded. When we couldn't find you after the snowball fight, we thought something awful might have happened!"

Hermione's eyes widened. "I went to run an errand for Hagrid!" she explained, which wasn't totally a lie. "Did something else happen while I was gone?"

"Yes," Ron said pointedly. "You see, while you were off doing who-knows-what, we all decided to go to Hogsmeade. Felt like the time for a Butterbeer and a warm muffin or something, you know?"

The mention of muffins made Hermione's mouth water and her stomach gurgle, and she nodded.

Harry piped up. "Well, when we got to The Three Broomsticks, some old codger passing by told us that it had closed down," he said, an unsettling edge creeping into his voice. "Madam Rosmerta has left the countryside, and until further notice, her pub is closed. He didn't know why."

Hermione's eyes widened. "But why would she just leave with no explanation?" she questioned. "That doesn't seem like a move she would make. She enjoys working in The Three Broomsticks."

"That's what we thought, too," Neville added. "So we went to the Hog's Head. You know, where that grumpy old man with the long beard lives? He told us that this has been happening all day. All of the shop owners and innkeepers in Hogsmeade have left. But he wouldn't tell us why. Told us that we didn't have any business knowing those kinds of things. Turns out that apparently the Headmaster knows about it, and he's going to address it with us tonight at dinner."

"Wait, I must have missed that part," said Dean. "When did you find out that Dumbledore knew?"

Neville shrugged. "I stopped by Professor McGonagall's office," he replied. "Told her about Hogsmeade. And that's the response I got."

A knot began to form in Hermione's stomach, and she tentatively spoke up. "It isn't something about...the Dementors, is it?"

"We don't know, Hermione," Parvati said. "It could be anything."

Hermione sat down on the sofa, giving Harry a nervous look. "Did Dumbledore tell you anything?" she asked.

Harry shook his head. "I don't know anything," he admitted. "And I don't like it. Whenever Professor Dumbledore has an announcement for us, it's never anything good. It's always some kind of warning."

"That's exactly why we're all so worried," murmured Lavender.

"Honestly, we'd be best off preparing ourselves, just in case," added Ron. "Worst-case scenario, we have to fight."

Seamus rolled his eyes. "At this point, Weasley, that would be our best scenario," he said. "What, with everything that's happened. You know we've got a fight ahead of us. Question is, how big of a fight will it be?"

"I don't even want to think about it," Ginny muttered, kicking at the rug near her feet.

"Me neither," Neville agreed solemnly.

Hermione gritted her teeth and straightened up. "Well, while you all are worrying about that, I'm going upstairs. Lots more studying to do, you know. Best get it done as soon as possible."

As she stood up to leave, Harry grabbed her by the hand. "Hermione, you don't have to brush this off like it's no big thing," he said sternly. "We're all scared out of our wits. You don't have to pretend like you aren't."

Hermione sighed. "I know, Harry. But sometimes, homework is a way that I can escape what I fear the most until I'm ready to deal with it." She gently removed her hand from Harry's grip and headed up the stairs, refusing to look back at her classmates.

By the time she arrived in her room, Hermione had made a plan for herself: study the afternoon away, and keep all of the possible threats that were to come, including the Dementors, out of her head. She convinced herself that it would do her no good to keep worrying about it, and that she might as well make use of the time that she would have normally spent worrying. Hermione grabbed her Potions book, along with a roll of parchment, and flopped down on her bed. She began to skim through the tattered, weathered pages, and within seconds, her thoughts began to focus themselves elsewhere, and every worry left in her mind was scattered to the wind.

At least, for the time being.

**A/N: I hope you guys liked this chapter! My decision to have Draco finally blurt out those three little words was sort of cliche, I know. But that's how I imagined it happening-Draco, who is normally confident and snarky, not even knowing what to say and maybe even being a little (or a lot) awkward. And I didn't want it to happen during a climactic romantic moment. Because that also doesn't seem like something Draco would do, at least in this story. **

**Also, oh my gosh, I can't thank you guys enough for the wonderful reviews that this story has been getting. I appreciate hearing your thoughts about the plot and characters, as well as predictions on what might happen next or how certain events are going to play out. It's so fun for me to go through and read and reread them, and even respond if I have the time. So thank you for that!**

**Next chapter should be up fairly soon, I hope. Between work and moving again, I have limited free time. But I'll do my best to get the next part up soon! I'm hoping to include a big romantic moment between Hermione and Draco that calls back to one of the earlier chapters. Stay tuned! **

**-BlackthornUnicorn98**


	11. Chapter 11

**Hello! I'm back with another cheesy Dramione update! Hope you all are enjoying the story so far. We're still in the 'calm before the storm' chapters here, just for a little bit longer, and I really hope you guys like it.**

**IS IT LOVE?: A DRAMIONE STORY**

**Chapter 11: Warnings, Confliction, and Magical Trinkets**

**(Day 6, Part 2)**

The afternoon passed rather quickly. Despite the worries that had mercilessly plagued her mind earlier, Hermione was surprised to find that she had actually managed to get a great deal of studying done for the Potions exam that was to come the following week; this was a fact that she was immensely thankful for. As she closed her book and headed out of her dormitory to join her housemates for dinner, she couldn't help but feel a huge sense of accomplishment in the work that she'd gotten done that afternoon. And of course, naturally, that put her in quite a cheerful mood.

Hermione entered the common room, and was surprised to see Harry and Luna, sitting together on the couch in silence. Ron sat in a leather chair nearby, seemingly thinking very hard about something. Hermione cleared her throat awkwardly. "Don't think too hard, Ronald," she said. "You might hurt yourself."

Ron glared up at her. "Ha ha. Very funny, 'Mione," he deadpanned.

Hermione approached her friends. "Would you all like to join me for dinner?" she asked hopefully.

Harry shrugged. "Actually, we were already headed there," he replied. "Then we ran into Luna, so we came back here."

Hermione's eyes fell on her fourth-year friend, whose face was streaked with tears. "Luna, are you alright?" she asked worriedly. "What happened? Who do we need to curse?"

Luna sniffed. "If anybody, Pansy Parkinson," she murmured.

"What did she do to you?" demanded Hermione, rage boiling up inside of her. "I swear to Godric, I will go and find that pug-faced little bitch right now, drag her off by her mousy black bob of hair, and shove her off the Astronomy To-"

"It's alright, Hermione," Luna interrupted calmly. "I'll be fine. Actually, I have Malfoy to thank for that, or else things might have ended up being a lot worse."

Hermione's eyes widened, and she sat down in the chair across from Ron. "What happened, Luna?" she asked again. "Tell me."

Harry patted Luna's hand, and she spoke. "I was coming back from the Great Hall. I'd had my pudding and everything. It was quite delicious, you know. But I saw Pansy and a couple of other girls from Slytherin, and they started saying things to me. Mean things. I tried to ignore them, but Milicent Bulstrode stole the copy of the _Quibbler_ that I had sticking out of my bag. She started tearing it up, and Pansy kept calling me names, so I tried to walk away. Pansy tripped me, and then they all started making fun of me for some comment I made in Professor Flitwick's class about Wrackspurts yesterday. And they were calling my father a fool and a lunatic, and a bunch of other things that really upset me. But Malfoy and his friends were walking by, and he told Pansy to bugger off, or else he'd 'hex the everloving shit out of her'. Malfoy's words, not mine. And then she ran off to the Slytherin dungeons or somewhere, and that's when I ran into Harry and Ron and came back here. To tell them what happened."

Luna's words completely astounded Hermione. "I'm so sorry that happened to you, Luna," she said sadly. "But I'm really glad that Draco was there to help you."

"He is quite nice, isn't he?" Luna said happily. "He's got a sort of soft spot that I've never really seen before. But one thing is for certain; you've got a keeper there, Hermione. Don't let him go anytime soon."

Hermione bitterly thought back to her conversation with Draco in the Forbidden Forest earlier that day, and about her promise to never forget what they had together. Nevertheless, she forced a smile. "I won't, Luna. Don't you worry about that."

Luna grinned. "That's wonderful. Now, if you all don't mind, I'm going back to my room to relax. Thank you all for listening. See you three tomorrow sometime?"

Harry and Hermione nodded, while Ron shrugged. With that, Luna skipped out of the common room with a loud slam of the door. "Bugger. Who knew Malfoy would have a single compassionate bone in his body?" Ron wondered aloud.

"He is a kind person, Ronald," Hermione argued. "That side of him, it's always been there...it's just been buried, that's all. Maybe you would realize that if you made an effort to be nicer to him."

"Maybe I would try it if he did tried first," Ron shot back.

"Oh please, Ronald! He's done nothing but try with you the whole time we've been together!" snapped Hermione.

"Don't make me laugh!" Ron cackled.

Harry stood up, and shot them both death stares. "Both of you, shut up already!" he said angrily. "There's no use getting into this argument again. Alright? Now, why don't we just go downstairs, have some supper, and hear this important announcement that Dumbledore has for us? Does that sound like a good plan to the two of you?"

Ron nodded. "I suppose you're right," Harry."

Hermione's mouth dropped open. "Then we need to go get Luna!" she exclaimed. "If Dumbledore hasn't made the announcement yet, she will miss it!"

"Her housemates will fill her in, if it's important enough," Ron countered.

Hermione shrugged, and the three friends filed out of the common room without another word to one another.

...

...

The Great Hall was buzzing with chatter by the time that Ron, Hermione, and Harry arrived. Nearly every seat was full, which was a rare thing for Saturday evenings; regardless, they made their way to their normal seats anyway. As Hermione sat down in front of a plate, her eyes fell on Draco, who was sitting over at the Slytherin table. He was conversing with Blaise Zabini, and they were both apparently in very good moods. As unusual as it was to see, the sight warmed Hermione's heart, and she began to dig into the turkey leg and mashed potatoes that sat neatly arranged on her plate.

Across the table, Harry spoke up. "So, Hermione, tell me...what was that errand that you had to run for Hagrid? The one that you mentioned earlier? You never told us."

Hermione leaned across the table so no one else could hear. "I went to visit Misty," she whispered.

"Without us?" Ron said incredulously. "Were you by yourself? You know it's not a good idea to travel outside the castle on your own."

"But I wasn't alone," Hermione corrected. "Draco came along with me. He helped me feed her, actually."

At that, Harry dropped his turkey leg into his potatoes in shock, and Ron's mouth fell open. "Are you bleeding mad?!" the redhead demanded. "Misty's supposed to be a secret! Why would you show her to Draco? You could get Hagrid sacked for that! Imagine if anyone else found out! What were you thinking?"

"I have to agree with Ron on this one, Hermione," Harry said apologetically. "That's completely mad. What did Hagrid have to say about it? Draco coming with you, I mean?"

Hermione shrugged. "He didn't really question it much."

"Big surprise there," muttered Ron. "Is Malfoy going to say anything about her? You know, if he did, Hagrid would-""

"Get sacked. Yes, Ronald, I know that. But he swore he wouldn't tell a soul," replied Hermione. "And personally, I couldn't see Draco breaking a promise that he had made to me."

Harry shook his head. "I'm not so sure about that, Hermione."

"Well, I am," she shot back. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd appreciate it if you had a little bit more faith in him. Give him a bit more credit, you know?"

Ron scrunched up his freckled face stubbornly. "When I see a good enough reason, then I'll consider it," he huffed, going back to his potatoes without another word on the matter.

Hermione and Harry exchanged an uneasy glance, silently deciding not to press the matter any further. Harry begrudgingly turned to talk to Neville, who was still very worried about the upcoming Potions exam, and Hermione began to poke her turkey leg with her fork, not feeling as hungry as she had been at the start of dinner.

Before long, the room gradually began to go silent, and Hermione noticed Professor Dumbledore approaching the front of the room. The old wizard had a ghastly expression etched upon his normally cheery face, and the staff who sat nearby didn't seem too far off. Professor Sprout seemed quite distressed, as did Madam Pomfrey. McGonagall was rapidly drumming her fingers on the long table in front of her, looking on nervously as Dumbledore approached the podium. And Snape stared off into space, looking uncharacteristically tense.

"Students! If I could have your attention please!" Dumbledore boomed, automatically making every student in the room go quiet.

Hermione leaned forward in anticipation. "This is it," she whispered across the table to Harry. He nodded, and both he and Ron looked up at the Headmaster.

"I am deeply sorry for bringing such terrible news here tonight," Dumbledore continued. "This troubles me, as well as the rest of my staff. But it must be said."

Seamus rolled his eyes. "Oi, just get on with it," he muttered under his breath. Harry shot him daggers, and Dumbledore kept speaking.

"You are all aware of the potential threat of the Dementors of Azkaban," he said slowly. "Before this night, their arrival was simply an idea; a _possible_ threat, if you will. And I'm sorry to say, dear children, that earlier today, it came to my attention that this danger has become imminent. Not possible. The Dementors are coming. Within thirty-six hours, no more."

Looks of unabashed horror appeared on the face of nearly every wizard and witch seated in the Great Hall, and Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself not to burst into tears. To hear those words coming from Dumbledore's mouth nearly sent her mind into a terrified frenzy, but she managed to outwardly keep her composure. "Godric help us," she murmured shakily.

"I know how hard this must be for you all to hear," Dumbledore went on. "This is a terrible turn of events, one that nobody could have anticipated. But we will do everything that is possible in our power to protect all of you. And I do have certain assurances that the castle will be given every extra measure of protection that is possible, as well as some potential outside measures that could decrease the possibility of the Dementors breaching the walls of Hogwarts." He then glanced momentarily at Snape, whose stare turned cold and rigid.

Hermione nudged Ron. "What do you suppose that's all about?" she whispered. "The way Snape is looking at Dumbledore?"

Ron shrugged. "Beats me."

Dumbledore continued on. "Despite these measures, there is still a terrible threat in our midst, which means that each and every one of you must be prepared for it. I suggest coming to one of your professors, other faculty members, House Heads, prefects, and elder members of the Houses of Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Slytherin and Hufflepuff for protection. Otherwise, you must devise an alternate strategy to protect yourselves, should the Dementors enter the grounds of Hogwarts. Now, all of you, off to bed immediately. We have a trying couple of days ahead of us all."

With those last words, Dumbledore stepped away from the podium, and every student in the room began to disperse. Harry beckoned Ron and Hermione to follow him, and they headed out of the Great Hall. The moment they were out the doors, Harry pulled both of his friends aside, out of the anxious flow of students. "Thirty-six hours?!" Harry exclaimed. "That's a day and a half! How are we going to be able to prepare for the attack in that span of time?!"

"Harry, calm down," said Hermione. "Losing our composure is not how we're going to figure this out. You know that."

"Then how do you suggest we proceed?" demanded Ron. "What are we going to do, now that the Dementors are really coming?"

Harry rubbed his temples, attempting to keep his thoughts together. "I suppose that since we have an expected time of arrival now, we won't be as taken by surprise," he muttered. "It helps a little bit, but not as much as I wish it did."

"But it's better than nothing," Hermione encouraged, trying to keep her voice from shaking.

"You're right," agreed Ron. "We have to start preparing people, though. That's essential."

"And how do you expect to do that?" Harry questioned his friend. "It's practically impossible to protect every single unarmed child in this castle all at once. Dumbledore's Army wasn't very big, if you recall."

Ron thought for a moment, before brightening up a bit. "I've got it! What if we rallied the younger kids into the Room of Requirement? There's no way the Dementors could get to them in there."

"That's true," Hermione said, hope beginning to brim in her eyes. "The Dementors couldn't possibly know that the Room of Requirement exists. And by that logic, they wouldn't need it."

"Exactly," said Ron. "And even if they somehow _did_ manage to find it, then we could assign a couple of DA members to guard the entrance. You know, just in case the Dementors decided to come snooping around."

"Great idea, Ron!" said Harry. "And the rest of us will try to make the rest of the Dementors leave. Or, if they find this supposed Death Eater, maybe they'll leave on their own."

At his words, Hermione shook her head. "Harry, you know that Dementors don't just give up once they find who they're hunting," she said. "Remember when you saved Sirius three years ago? They had him in their clutches, the person they'd been looking for, but you were there too. And they took great delight in trying to suck out your soul, too."

"That's a good point," Harry said defeatedly, visibly flinching at the horrid memory. "I suppose that once they realize that they can't take any of us, they'll leave."

"We can only hope," mumbled Ron.

At that moment, Draco Malfoy emerged from the Great Hall, looking a bit shaken but still oddly cheerful. "Hi, Weasley. Potter. Is there any chance that I could borrow Granger for a few moments?" he asked earnestly.

Harry and Ron gave each other a look. "What for?" Harry asked.

"That's between Granger and me," Draco replied casually.

Ron and Harry looked doubtful, but Hermione smiled at them. "Don't worry, you two. I'll catch up with you in the common room, alright?"

They both nodded hesitantly, and headed off down the corridor, every so often turning to look back at their friend.

Hermione turned to Draco. "What is it, love?" she asked, squeezing his hand. "Is something wrong?"

"Other than the fleet of killer Azkaban guards that's launching an attack on the school? Not at all," he replied sarcastically.

"Then what is it?" Hermione pressed.

Draco smiled shyly. "I actually wanted to give you something. I was going to wait for a while, but seeing as the Dementors will be here soon, what better time than now?"

Hermione shrugged. "I guess. But, Draco...you didn't have to do something like this for me. You've done far too much already."

"Well, I did it anyway. So you'll just have to deal with it, Granger," he answered slyly. "Now, come on."

Without another word, Draco squeezed Hermione's hand and led her away from the Great Hall. She went willingly, oddly curious about whatever he had done, and eventually, they reached the steps of the Astronomy Tower. "Draco, what are we doing here?" Hermione asked. "Is this some sort of trick? Are you going to try to throw me off?"

Draco smirked. "As tempting as that may be sometimes, Granger...no, I'm not going to try and throw you off. Now, quit asking questions and come with me." He began to ascend up the steps, and Hermione obediently followed him, tiredly clambering up step by creaky step.

By the time they reached the very top, Hermione had grown impatient. "Alright, Draco, what gives?" she asked. "Why don't you just tell me what's going on?"

He sat down on the sill of one of the windows. "Granger, I wanted to give you something," he said again. "Something that, hopefully, won't make you forget about your feelings for me, or my feelings for you. Or, if you do forget, it will remind you of them."

Hermione proceeded to sit down next to him. "Draco, I told you, I promise to do my very best to remember, okay?"

"I know you will," he replied. "But that might not end up being enough. And who knows what will actually happen when the potion's effects disappear? Maybe you won't remember. Maybe I won't even remember. But if I give this to you, at least we'll both be able to see that these feelings did exist, and that they were real and true at one point or another."

Hermione frowned. "Alright. I guess it couldn't hurt."

Satisfied by her answer, Draco reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a beautiful golden locket. The frame was shaped like a diamond, with a glass casing over the front and subtle copper specks laid flawlessly into the surface. Beneath the shimmering glass was one of the pictures that the two had taken together just a few days before, when Blaise had gifted Draco with his aunt's camera. She recognized the picture, too; it was one of the more serious ones, but both were smiling, and the snow in the background seemed to have brightened their faces tenfold. Hermione gasped at the sight of it. "Draco, it's...I don't even know what to say!"

"Don't say anything," Draco said. "I just wanted to give that to you, before it's too late." He placed the locket in the palm of his hand and opened the glass cover over the picture. To Hermione's surprise, the picture began to move; with the Draco in the picture smiling and occasionally glancing at the Hermione beside him, who kept giggling and grinning brightly.

"It's magic. Oh, Draco, I absolutely love it," Hermione murmured, clearly enamored by the beautiful locket. "It's just amazing. How in the world did you ever manage to do this?"

Draco shrugged. "I may have had some help," he said sheepishly.

Hermione gave him a knowing look. "It was Blaise, huh?"

"Yeah," answered Draco. "I'll tell you, that boy loves this sort of thing. And he also helped me come up with this." He then proceeded to turn the locket over to the back side, and written in dark, perfect cursive were the words:

**H. Granger-**

**You are my once upon a time.**

**And my happily ever after.**

**-D. Malfoy**

Hermione's eyes began to fill with tears, and she threw her arms around his shoulders. "I love it so much," she murmured. "And I love _you_."

Draco hugged her back, but he couldn't help but feel a bit melancholy inside. _Oh, sure, she says that now,_ he thought. _But it won't be long until things go right back to how they used to be. _Despite his bitter thoughts, he smiled weakly. "I love you, too," he said softly.

The two sat there for a few moments longer, enjoying the comfort of each other's company and the warmth of love's embrace. The setting sun far off in the distance only made the moment more special; Hermione soon became entranced by colorful rays of orange, yellow, pink and purple that were peeking out over the horizon. She watched it with amazement, looking positively bewitched, and Draco watched it right along with her, keeping his arm protectively around her at the same time. He wanted to spend whatever time he had left to keep her safe, in case something went horribly wrong during the Dementor attack that was to come.

Eventually, Hermione spoke. "I have to get going, Draco," she said quietly. "I don't want to go, but I must. Harry and Ron are probably worried about me."

"I understand," Draco replied, trying to hide his disappointment. "We should both get some rest, anyway. At least, let me walk you back to your common room?"

Hermione smiled. "Of course, Ferret," she said humorously.

Draco scoffed, and together, the two of them slowly made their way back downstairs. Draco couldn't be sure, but he started to get the feeling that Hermione was walking slowly on purpose, maybe to postpone the impending goodbye that they were both dreading. Of course, he didn't bother saying anything about it, and just relished the feeling of holding her warm hand in his own for as long as he could.

Eventually, though, they did arrive back at the Gryffindor common room. As Hermione murmured the password to the Fat Lady, Draco nervously cleared his throat. "I'll see you tomorrow, won't I, Granger?" he asked.

The door opened, and Hermione smiled. "Of course you will, you dolt," she replied. "Count on it." She boosted herself up on her tiptoes and kissed Draco softly on the mouth, sensing that familiar longing that she felt simmering within her whenever the two kissed. Draco gently caressed her cheek, enjoying the softness of her skin beneath his fingertips and the minty undertones of her breath as he finally separated his lips from hers. "Goodnight, Granger. Sleep well," he whispered.

"Goodnight, Draco," she breathed back. "I'll see you tomorrow."

He gave her a reassuring nod, and forced himself to head off down the corridor toward his own common room. Hermione smiled after him, her hands closing over the locket around her neck, and she stepped inside the door.

...

...

As Hermione entered the common room, the sight that she came upon momentarily stopped her in her tracks. The room was mostly empty, save for Harry, Ginny, Neville, and Lavender, who were all sitting around, glancing at one another nervously. "Is everyone alright?" Hermione asked timidly, hoping not to startle them.

Ginny shrugged her shoulders. "Not really. After everything that Dumbledore told us? How could we possibly be alright?"

Hermione sat down beside Lavender. "Didn't Ronald tell you about his plan to protect the younger students who don't know how to fight the Dementors?" she asked. "It's completely brilliant, you know."

"Yeah, he told us," Neville mumbled. "But what happens if that plan fails, and the Dementors somehow get into the Room of Requirement?"

"They won't," Harry argued.

"How do you know that?" tested Ron.

Harry thought for a moment. "I don't," he finally admitted. "But if there's a possibility of that happening, then we need to have some sort of back-up plan in place."

Hermione and Lavender nodded in agreement, and Neville opened his mouth to speak before being interrupted by the far-off voice of Ron, who was waddling noisily down the stairs. "Alright, I just sent an owl to Fred and George, telling them about all that's been happening," he said loudly. "Don't know if they'll receive it in time, but it's worth a try!"

He stepped into the common room, and to everyone's surprise, Lavender stood up. "Ron?" she said quietly.

His gaze fell on her, and he stopped. "What is it?"

Lavender wore a sad smile on her face. "I've been thinking a lot today," she replied, twirling a strand of her curly blonde hair around her finger. "About us. And I've decided that I don't want us to go on like this."

"Like what?" Ron asked, sitting down on the arm of the couch.

"Like how we've been acting," Lavender answered. "Ignoring one another, getting into arguments about stupid things. I can't keep going like this anymore."

Ron seemed taken aback by her words. "You mean, you want to get back together?"

To his dismay, she shook her head. "No. I mean, I don't know. That's something I'll have to figure out in time. But I at least want to be your friend, Ronald. I liked it better that way. I...I miss you."

"I miss you, too, Lav," Ron replied softly. "And I'm sorry. For everything."

"It'll take me a while before I can forgive you," she said sadly. "I'll admit that. But I'm willing to try to be friends for now."

Ron smiled, seeming genuinely happy for the first time in days, and engulfed Lavender in a friendly hug. Hermione and Ginny exchanged thrilled glances with one another, while Harry and Neville looked on awkwardly. "I'm happy for you both," Harry said after a few moments. "I really am. But we have other things we need to figure out right now."

"Yeah!" Ginny agreed. "Like where Hermione got that gorgeous necklace she's wearing!"

Hermione blushed. "It was a gift from Draco," she informed her friends. "As a reminder of our feelings for one another. Because the love potion will wear off eventually, and neither of us may remember them. So he gave me this." Holding the locket in the palm of her hand, she held it out and opened the glass cover, revealing the moving picture.

"Wow!" gushed Lavender.

"Who would have known that Malfoy was so romantic?" Harry snickered.

"Shut up, Harry," Ginny muttered. "That's so sweet, Hermione! I wouldn't have expected that from him at all. But it's beautiful!"

Hermione nodded, a huge smile appearing on her face. "It is. I love it."

Neville piped up. "Speaking of Malfoy, Hermione...did you ever figure out if he's mastered the Patronus Charm yet?"

"No," Hermione replied.

"Has he even tried it yet?" asked Ron.

At that, Hermione smiled again. "He has, I think. Once. And I'm pretty sure it worked."

"Great," Ginny said. "One less Slytherin that we have to hide in the Room of Requirement."

"I have a feeling that Draco isn't going to be hiding _anywhere _during the Dementor attack," Hermione said nervously. "It sounds like he wants to help. Don't get me wrong, that makes me so happy. I think I sort of convinced him to do it. I just don't want to see him get hurt."

Lavender nodded. "It makes sense that you're worried about him."

"Yes," Hermione replied simply, staring at the floor with an unflinching gaze. It was clear that she was beginning to worry much more extensively than she had before.

Harry patted her hand gently. "Hermione, you know better than anyone that worrying about it isn't going to make it go away, and it's not going to make it better either," he said sternly. "Maybe it's best if you go get some sleep. Like Dumbledore said, we've got a long couple of days ahead of us, and they're sure to be difficult ones."

She nodded her head. "I know that, Harry. I suppose you're right. I'd better go to bed before I drive myself barking mad with all of these worries of mine."

As she stood up to leave, Ginny gave her a reassuring smile. "We'll figure this out, Hermione," she said. "Dumbledore's Army will prevail, as it always has. I promise."

Hermione said nothing, and just smiled at her friends. "I'm sure we will. Goodnight to all of you." She turned on her heel and glided up the staircase, hiding the fact that she wasn't sure she could believe what Ginny had said. Nevertheless, she entered her dormitory and flopped down onto her bed, not caring one bit that she was still in her clothes from earlier that day. And Hermione Granger fell into a deep, restless, dreamless sleep, utterly terrified about what the next couple of days would bring.

…

...

Severus Snape fumed as he paced throughout the corridors. He'd been doing so for the last hour or two, dreading the decision that was weighing down on his heart that evening. The thought of the Dementors attacking Hogwarts Castle was so unbearably terrible to him, that much was true. Snape would never outwardly admit it, but he cared deeply for the vast majority of students and staff who resided there. As much as he occasionally mouthed off in class or got into trouble with his close friends, Snape had to admit that Harry Potter was an incredibly talented wizard, and there was not a single bone in the professor's body that wished such a horrible fate as the Dementor's Kiss on the boy, or his friends, or anyone else in the school.

And now he had a decision to make...leave or stay.

Snape had been thinking back to his upsetting conversation with Dumbledore a couple of days before. It kept ringing in his mind like a city bell, tolling over and over and over again. Dumbledore had made a good point; if the Dementors were there for Snape and Snape alone, he was endangering the students' safety by remaining at Hogwarts. In fact, in his mind, the entire ordeal was technically his fault in the first place, though he would have had no way of anticipating the Death Eater hunt that had transpired. Still, he felt that it was his sole responsibility to do his best to lure the dark creatures away and prevent more innocent lives from being snatched away.

Although, as he kept thinking about it, he wondered about the possibility of the Dementors attacking anyway, regardless of Snape's whereabouts. The Potions Master thought to himself further, beginning to wonder if wise old Dumbledore had taken that into consideration at all. The possibility seemed as likely as it was unlikely, but the thought still tugged at his mind anyway as he shuffled along through the dark, freezing cold corridor.

After a while, Snape finally stopped at one of the windows. He looked out toward the horizon, watching as the grey clouds in the sky gave way to a black, emotionless void with no stars to be seen for miles around. An image began to surge in his mind, one of the beautiful country sky becoming corrupted by the shadows of the terrible creatures' imminent arrival, and the dangers that they posed to the entire school. Those shadows were sure to take over everyone in sight, and Hogwarts would be reduced to a dry, empty castle, with only the remaining bodies of its students and teachers as evidence of the terrible attack.

It made his heart ache to think about it.

Steeling himself, Snape took a look around. The halls of Hogwarts had been a part of his life since he was eleven years old. He knew, deep in his heart, that he would, for the most part, look back on his earlier memories of the castle fondly. All of his studies, all of the experiences that the school had provided him with over the years, all of his past students that he was more proud of than he had ever admitted to anyone. And with a deep breath and a gentle wave of his wand, Snape made his decision.

He vanished.

**A/N: Yes, that's right. A _cliffhanger_. You're welcome. Anyways, the next chapters will probably be a bit more intense than these last chapters have been - at least, I hope they will. Lots of action sequences coming soon, and hopefully, some surprises too. **

**Also, please feel free to PM me with your thoughts, opinions, reviews, and predictions about what you think will happen next. I really love reading them and conversing with you guys about them! Next chapter will be up soon! Stay tuned!**

**-BlackthornUnicorn98**


	12. Chapter 12

**Hello, everyone! Yes, the final day is finally here. Just so you know, I'm not sure exactly how many parts Day 7 will have...I'm leaning toward 3, just because so much happens from multiple people's perspectives and all sorts of other things, and I've still got quite a bit to go. So I'm thinking two parts after this one, and I'll see where to go from there.**

**These next chapters might be a bit lengthy, but I really hope you enjoy them. I have two more minor original characters in this chapter as well, Bindy Tourmaline and Doran Martellini (the similarity of his name to that of a minor Game of Thrones character was unintentional, and once I realized it, I'd already written all of his scenes and didn't really feel like going back and changing them). So there's that. The rest of the characters in this chapter belong to Queen Rowling, obviously.**

**IS IT LOVE?: A DRAMIONE STORY**

**Chapter 12: Cats, Preparation, and the Beginning of Chaos**

**(Day 7, Part 1)**

_The landscape before her was a beautiful one, indeed. Hills in the distance surged and waved up and down, up and down, and the bright green of the grass could practically be seen for miles around. The grass seemed to sparkle in the sunlight, contrasting nicely with the baby blue color of the warm, cloudless sky above. It looked almost like a painting; it didn't seem real. It was too glorious to seem real._

_Hermione touched her bare palms to the grass beneath her feet, feeling its soft texture and relishing its smoothness. She could feel the dirt beneath the grass as well; it was so smooth and slick that she started to feel the urge to take clump after clump in her hands and mold them into any number of different shapes. _

_As she traced her finger around into the soil, there came a soft meow. Hermione was delighted to find a tiny little kitten, with tan fur and chocolate brown eyes, nuzzling her leg gently. "Well, hello there!" she said happily, picking the tiny thing up in her arms and cradling it lovingly._

_The cat let out another affectionate meow, and Hermione ran the tip of her finger through the animal's soft, silky fur. She had always loved cats; ever since she was a little girl, she'd long for one of her own, and couldn't have been more overjoyed when her parents announced that they would allow her to get one when she left for Hogwarts._

"_You're such a sweet little thing," Hermione cooed, dangling her finger above the kitten. It pawed at her hand, probably thinking she was trying to play some sort of game. The young Gryffindor couldn't help but giggle, and continued to play with the kitten until a sight nearby caught her eye. Another kitten, a black one with an odd white spot on its forehead, jumped out of a cluster of weeds nearby, and Hermione grinned. "Oh, come here, you!" she whispered, and the kitten approached her, jumping up onto her lap._

_Before long, more kittens began to appear all around her. One with fiery red fur and tiny speckles dotted all over its body approached the black kitten, and the two began to wrestle in the grass. Another, with dark brown fur and brown eyes identical to those of the first kitten's eyes, slowly walked over and laid down to Hermione's right. One with blonde fur and a funky-looking collar around its neck began to run in circles and chase its tail, making Hermione snicker again. And eventually, a pale kitten with cloudy eyes sat down in front of her, staring at the tan kitten in Hermione's arms. She reached out and stroked it behind the ears, eliciting a soft purring noise from the tiny creature._

_Hermione looked at the group of cats around her, and decided that she never wanted to leave that meadow. She wanted to stay there for the rest of her days, to cuddle her kittens and never again worry about anything. It sounded like the life that she had always wanted to live._

_As the moments passed, she began to hear a far-off voice calling out to her. "Hermione?"_

_She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the sound._

"_Hermione! Come on!"_

_A painful shaking sensation overcame her, catching her completely off-guard, and she finally opened her eyes._

"Hermione!"

The image of Lavender, looking extremely panicked, swam into Hermione's view, and she realized that her fantasy about the cats in the meadow had only been a dream. "What do you want?" she grumbled irritably, rubbing at her eyes.

"We have to go!" Lavender urged. "Now!"

"Breakfast doesn't start for two hours, Lav," Hermione groaned. "It's still early."

Lavender huffed. "It's not about breakfast, Hermione! It's about the Dementors!"

The sound of the word sent an uncomfortable shiver down Hermione's spine, and she bolted up. "What do you mean? What about the Dementors?" she asked, the world around her slowly coming into focus.

"They've been spotted," said Lavender, growing more panicked with every word she spoke. "Outside Kenworth. A messenger arrived from there, and I heard him talking to Professor McGonagall this morning."

"No!" Hermione gasped. "There's no way! Dumbledore said they wouldn't be here for another thirty-six hours!"

Lavender fiddled nervously with her uniform skirt. "Thirty-six hours. No more. That's what he said."

Hermione shut her eyes, wishing she could just wake up from the nightmarish conversation. "What do we do?!" she demanded. "Kenworth is only twenty miles away from here."

"We have to warn people," Lavender urged. She rushed over to the other side of the dormitory. "Parvati, wake up! Romilda! Bindy! You guys, get up! Now!"

All three girls began to stir. "What time is it?" Parvati murmured sleepily.

"Lavender, are you mad?" Bindy Tourmaline grumbled, yanking her pillow over her head.

Romilda sat up, immediately sensing Lavender's worry. "Lavender, what is it?" she asked.

"The Dementors are coming!" she exclaimed. "They're not far away! We really need to go!"

As soon as the words flew out of her mouth, Romilda, Parvati, and Bindy jumped out of bed. "Do we have time to get dressed?" Bindy asked, staring down at her pajama pants and tank top.

"Alright, fine, but hurry!" Lavender said firmly.

As the other three scrambled about, gathering their clothes, Hermione glanced at Lavender. "We have to go," she said dismally. "Right now. We have to find Harry and Ron."

Lavender nodded in agreement, and the two girls sprinted out of the dormitory and down the stairs. They entered the common room to see more people than they had expected, and most of them looked extremely panicked. "Did you hear?" Ginny asked frantically.

Hermione nodded. "Lav told me," she said. "We have to gather everyone who is going to the Room of Requirement, and get them there _now._"

"Dean and Ernie are already on it," Harry assured them, putting his hand comfortingly on Ginny's shoulder. "They're gathering everyone in the Great Hall. But we have to decide who is going to guard them. In case the Dementors come wandering into the school looking for people."

Hermione tapped on her chin. "How many people do you think we'll need?"

Ron sauntered over. "Maybe three?" he suggested.

"That sounds like a decent number," Harry agreed. "We have limited numbers that can defend against Dementors, but the rest of the school will be in that room."

"Great," Hermione said sullenly. "Now who?"

Ginny piped up. "I think Parvati mentioned something about Padma wanting to help," she said. "And so did Justin, apparently."

"What about a third person?" Hermione asked. "It's a high risk position, and I doubt many members of the D.A. would be willing to do it."

"I'll be the third," Lavender volunteered. "I want to help protect them."

Ron's eyes widened. "Lav, no," he said sternly.

Lavender smiled at him. "Ron, don't worry. I'll be fine," she assured him.

Ron sighed defeatedly, knowing her choice was already made.

The sound of footsteps rang out behind them, and Romilda, Bindy, and Parvati emerged, looking exhausted. Ginny gave them all reassuring smiles. "Alright, you lot. Let's move."

The entire common room obeyed the fifth-year redhead's orders, and they all stalked quietly out of the room.

…

…

The cold winter air whistled as Snape walked briskly down the street. In his mind, it was far too cold to be out and about, but as he knew, he didn't have much of a choice in the matter. The street before him seemed oddly dilapidated, despite being located in a fairly wealthy part of town. There was not a single person in sight, either, which didn't really surprise the old Potions Master one bit.

As he walked along the cobblestone street, his black shoes clanking and clopping loudly, his mind began to wander back to Hogwarts. _I've truly done the unthinkable,_ he thought to himself. _I've left the entire school to the most horrible fate known to wizardkind. There's no chance of those children defending themselves against an entire army of Dementors. _

The guilt began to plague his mind more and more, the longer he walked. But, as Severus Snape had always been a resolute and unyielding man, he refused to turn around. He wouldn't look back. He couldn't face the decision he'd made to retreat from battle like a coward. Snape never wanted to be seen as a coward. His pride put up too high of a wall for him to see that as a possibility.

So, with his complicated thoughts swirling inside his mind, he approached a huge, dreary-looking building. It was a bit unkempt and ragged around the edges, but regardless, he neared it anyway. The gate in front had been forced open, as had the front door, and Snape wearily looked up at the home that would hopefully become his sanctuary from the fearsome Dementors of Azkaban.

Malfoy Manor.

…

…

Hermione stood with her back to the corridor wall, watching student after student file into the Great Hall. Her heart ached with each student that passed, but she continued to reassure herself that they would be safe and protected in the Room of Requirement.

Harry ushered a group of young Gryffindors into the Great Hall, and Hermione grabbed his arm. "Harry, have you seen Draco anywhere?" she asked. "I have to see him. Before, you know…"

"I haven't seen Malfoy, Hermione," replied Harry. "And if you had any sense at all, you'd stay here with us so that we know you're safe. You don't want to be caught alone."  
Hermione shrugged. "I know. But...I have to see him. To make sure that he'll be alright."

Ginny peeked out from behind Harry. "He's right, Hermione. We need to stay together for right now," she said solemnly. "To make sure we're all on the same page, you know?"

"I suppose," Hermione mumbled. Ginny patted her on the shoulder, and they were soon joined by Neville, Luna, Dean, and Ron.

After a few more minutes of disorganized clamoring, Hermione heard Ernie shouting inside the Great Hall. "Is that everybody?!"

A jumble of chatter followed.

"Alright, then! Follow me!" Ernie hollered. He began to lead the huge crowd of students out of the Great Hall, and Hermione stepped aside, letting a scowl appear on her face.

Neville noticed her look. "Hermione, you alright?" he asked.

"I will be," she muttered. "Once all this is over."

Neville put his arm around her shoulders. "We can do this," he said, trying his best to sound cheerful. "I know we can. Dumbledore's Army will prevail, I know it."

Hermione leaned her head into his shoulder. "I hope you're right, Neville. I really do," she said quietly, watching as the students continued to file out.

Ernie eventually led all of the students away, and Padma, Justin, and Lavender followed after him. The remaining members of Dumbledore's Army gathered around in the empty doorway, and Ron spoke up. "We have to hurry to our stations," he said. "The Dementors will be here soon, based on what McGonagall told us."

"Right," replied Harry. "Cho, you and Dean guard the north tower. Susan and Parvati, the south. Neville, you and I will guard the west tower. Michael, take Anthony and Nigel to the east tower."

"Can do!" Michael replied.

"Be careful, Harry," Cho said nervously.

Harry gave her a confident smile, and turned to the rest of the group. "The House Towers need guarded as well. Any volunteers?"

From the back, Hannah Abbott piped up. "Dumbledore said that he has one member of his staff stationed at the entrance to each common room," she said. "Sprout's at the Hufflepuff door, Hooch is downstairs guarding the Slytherin dungeon, Madam Pomfrey is watching Gryffindor Tower, and Flitwick is stationed at Ravenclaw. But it might be good to have a D.A. member at each one as well, in the case of something going wrong."

"Good idea, Hannah," said Harry. "Why don't you go to the Hufflepuff door?"

She nodded. "I can do that."

Harry smiled. "Good. Now, Colin, go to Ravenclaw Tower. Ginny, Gryffindor. And Terry, Slytherin."

A scared look appeared on Terry's face. It wasn't exactly a secret that he was extraordinarily terrified of Madam Hooch. Nevertheless, he complied.

"Now," Harry continued, "the courtyard will be the place that most of the Dementors will initially target...at least, that's what Dumbledore told me. So, we need more people there."

Ron straightened up. "I'll go to the courtyard," he said defiantly, gripping his wand tightly in his right hand.

Harry grinned proudly. "Good on you, mate. What about you, Luna? Seamus? Zacharias?"

"Of course, Harry," Luna said softly, tying her long, blonde locks back with a hairband.

Seamus and Zacharias wordlessly nodded, sending each other nervous glances.

"Alright, who does that leave?" Harry asked, looking quite satisfied.

Hermione raised her hand. "Me, Harry," she said. "And Ernie."

"Ernie is guarding the library," Harry informed her. "Why don't you come to the west tower with Neville and me?"

She shrugged in response.

"I think that's everyone!" Ginny said loudly, making Neville jump. "Come on, everyone! The Dementors will be here any minute!"

The group began to scatter, sprinting off to their respective locations. Hermione hugged Ron, Ginny, and Luna goodbye before running off with Harry and Neville toward the west tower. As Dumbledore's Army dispersed, only one thought was running through Hermione's mind.

_Some of these people might never come back._

She shook the thought from her mind and followed Neville and Harry, mentally preparing herself for the vicious fight that was to come.

…

…

"I have to go, Blaise! I have to find her! Let go of me!"

Draco yanked his arm out of his roommate's grasp and headed for the door. "Malfoy, you can't! It's not going to be safe!" Blaise cried.

Draco turned back to him. "I may never see her again!" he thundered. "This could be my last chance to say goodbye to her if something goes wrong!"

From the other side of the room, Pansy snorted, and Draco shot her a deathly glare.

Blaise stared stonily into Draco's eyes for a moment, knowing that his roommate would not give up, before finally surrendering himself. "Only if you swear to me that you'll come back as soon as you find her," he said darkly.

Draco simply nodded his head, and rushed out the door, leaving the rest of the sixth and seventh-year Slytherins behind.

As he raced down the corridor, he realized something. _I have absolutely no clue where she could be,_ he thought. _I'm such an idiot. Where is she? How in the bloody hell am I going to find her? If I were Granger, where would I go during an impending Dementor attack?_

Fortunately, the blonde Slytherin didn't have to wonder very long at all; the moment he turned down the main corridor that would eventually lead him to the Great Hall, he spotted Hermione herself, tagging along behind Neville Longbottom and Harry Potter. "Granger!" he shouted.

Her gaze turned to him. "Draco! Harry, wait a moment!" She took off running in his direction, and wrapped her arms tightly around him. "What are you doing here?" she asked breathlessly.

"I want to fight," Draco admitted. "Because of you, I know that it's the right thing to do. And I'm going to do it."

Hermione gently caressed his cheek. "Draco, maybe I was wrong about that."

Draco chuckled heartily. "Granger, you're never wrong," he said. "Especially not in this case."

Hermione glanced back at Harry and Neville nervously, and found that their respective attentions were occupied elsewhere. "Come with us," she whispered to Draco.

Her statement caught him off-guard. "What did you say?"

"Draco, come with me," she implored him again. "I'm going with Neville and Harry to guard the west tower. You can come with us."

He smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry, Granger, but I have other plans."

"And what would those plans be?" Hermione inquired.

Draco took in a deep breath. "I've decided that I'm going to help guard the Room of Requirement."

Hermione's eyes nearly popped out of her head. "Are you barking mad?!" she demanded.

"Only for you," Draco quipped. "Granger, please let me do this. I want to protect those who can't protect themselves. I have to."

Hermione stared up into his grey eyes for a moment, watching them swirl with a determination that she'd never seen in them before, and her lip began to quiver. "Okay. But you have to promise me that you'll stay safe," she murmured.

"I will, Granger," he replied.

"Promise me, Draco. Now."

He brushed a lock of curly hair out of her face. "I promise you that I'll stay safe, Granger," he whispered.

A tear fell from Hermione's eye, and she took his face in her hands and kissed him desperately, wishing that the moment would last for all of eternity. Draco kissed her back, tracing his finger down the side of her face to assure her that he was real, and that he would come back. He eventually broke the kiss, to his own dismay, and sighed. "I'll see you later, Granger. I promise."

Hermione trembled again. "See you," she said quietly.

He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, and sprinted off into the adjoining corridor without looking back.

A teary-eyed Hermione turned back to Harry and Neville, who had been cautiously approaching her during the conversation. "You _will_ see him again, Hermione," Harry mumbled, seeming a bit shaken by the emotional goodbye his best friend had just shared with Draco.

"Yeah, don't worry yourself," Neville added, patting Hermione on the shoulder.

She shrugged, wiping tears from her eyes, and the three ventured off together again.

…

…

After a few minutes of frantic running, Draco finally found himself nearing the Room of Requirement. The very room where, just a few days earlier, he'd had the most wonderful date of his life with the one girl he cared for, more than any other.

And now, it was being used to shelter students from a Dementor attack.

Draco steeled himself and approached the huge door, and Justin Finch-Fletchley turned to him. "And what do you suppose you're doing here, Malfoy?" he demanded.

Draco cleared his throat. "I'm here to help," he said slowly. "To protect the other students against the Dementors."

"Are you bonkers?" Padma exclaimed. "How do we know that you're not just saying that to trick us?"

"You can't even produce a Patronus," added Justin, producing his wand from his robe pocket and holding it out in front of him. "You weren't ever a part of Dumbledore's Army, and we know you're lying. Do you think we're stupid, Malfoy?"

"You don't understand," Draco pleaded. "I _can_ produce a Patronus, and I _will_ stay here and help defend the other-"

"He's telling the truth."

Draco turned to see Lavender Brown, stepping up next to him. "Oh, please," Padma muttered. "Why would you believe anything he says, Lav?"

"Because I heard it from Hermione Granger first," Lavender replied.

At her words, Justin and Padma glanced at each other, clearly confused. "What do you mean?" asked Justin, lowering his wand.

"Hermione _told_ us that Draco was learning how to produce a Patronus of his own," Lavender explained. "Several days ago, in fact. And she said it in front of Professor McGonagall, so I know that it was the truth."

Justin stared at Draco, still looking angry. "And can you do it, _Ferret_?" he asked mockingly.

Draco nodded, ignoring the insulting tone of the Hufflepuff's voice. "Yes. I can."

"Come on, you two," Lavender said. "We need all the help we can get, you know."

Padma sighed, while Justin still looked slightly apprehensive. "Alright, Lavender. I believe you," she said. "Malfoy, I guess you can stay and help."

"Very well, Patil," he replied coolly, attempting and utterly failing to hide the grin on his face. "Where do you want me?"

Lavender thought for a moment. "Well, we have things covered out here, so...oh! Why don't you stay in the Room of Requirement with the rest of the students? That way, if something goes wrong out here, you can protect them or get them to safety."

"I can do that," Draco replied.

"Good. Then it's settled," Lavender responded.

Draco gave her a grateful nod, and headed into the Room of Requirement.

The moment he was gone, however, Justin glared at Lavender and Padma. "You two have completely lost it," he muttered. "How do you know he won't turn on us?"

Lavender marched straight up to Justin and looked him in the eyes. "Hermione trusts him," she said. "And if she trusts him, then I do too."

Padma nodded in agreement, and Justin finally relented. "Alright."

…

…

Down in the courtyard, McGonagall was becoming very nervous. "Albus, are you sure about this?" she asked.

Dumbledore, who stood next to her twirling his wand between his fingers, nodded. "Minerva, I assure you that this will work."

"There are so many innocent students in the castle at this very moment," McGonagall murmured. "And so many unarmed, at that. You don't truly believe that the Dementors will simply give up when they find out that Severus is not here, do you?"

"Oh, indeed, I do , Minerva," replied Dumbledore. "Severus is their target; that target is no longer present. Therefore, they have no reason to stay here."

McGonagall shook her head. "But Albus, you know better than anyone that the Dementors do not distinguish between the one that they hunt and the one who gets in their way. What makes you think-"

"Enough of this," Dumbledore said firmly. "I have confidence in this, and you should too."

"But what will happen to Severus if it does work?" asked McGonagall, clearly worried for her longtime friend and colleague. "He won't stand a chance on his own!"

Dumbledore smiled. "Do not worry yourself. Severus is an unusually skilled wizard, a fact that we have all been aware of for many years. I believe that, should his life come under threat, he will be more than capable of defending himself."

McGonagall didn't say a word more, and looked off into the distance, wondering if she could really believe the old Headmaster's words.

…

...

By the time they reached the west tower of the castle, Hermione was feeling a bit better than she had been before. She knew that if there was any place in Hogwarts that could use protecting from any additional person, it was certainly the Room of Requirement. And as high as the stakes were for the people who were out in the open, protecting the castle with only wands as their defense, the stakes were even higher regarding those who were defenseless. They could use all the protection that they could get.

Harry looked out one of the large windows nearby. "They'll be here soon," he murmured. "I can feel it in my bones."

"We know, Harry," mumbled Hermione. "We know they're on their way. And it's not going to get any less terrifying if you keep saying it."

He shrugged. "I suppose not."

Neville sat himself down against the wall. "Harry? Would you mind answering me one thing?"

"What is it, Neville?" asked Harry. "Are you alright?"

"I guess so," he replied. "It's just that...well...what does it feel like? I have to know."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "What does what feel like? You'll have to be more specific."

"The Dementor's Kiss," Neville said nervously. "The feeling of getting your soul sucked out of your body, you know?"

"Neville, Harry didn't receive the Dementor's Kiss," Hermione informed him. "Otherwise, he wouldn't be here right now, and we might not be here either."

Neville groaned. "What I meant was...what does it feel like when they _begin_ to take your soul?" he asked. "You've felt it before, haven't you, Harry?"

Harry begrudgingly nodded. "A few times, back in our third year."

A lightbulb seemed to go off in Hermione's head, and she suddenly remembered that Harry had, in fact, been attacked by the Dementor three years before; once during a Quidditch match against Hufflepuff, once on the Hogwarts Express, to which she and Ron had both been witnesses, and once during his rescue of Sirius Black, when the Dementors had nearly taken the escaped fugitive's soul in its entirety.

"So?" Neville asked, forcing Hermione out of her memories. "What's it like?"

Harry thoughtfully contemplated his answer for a moment. "It's...odd," he finally replied. "I felt like I was losing feeling in my body, which, I suppose, I really was. And everything went ice cold before it happened, everything around us. But since it was feeding on the happy memories that I possessed, I began to relive my worst memories during the attack. I heard a woman screaming right before I passed out."

"Who was it, Harry?" Neville asked.

"I think it was my mother," he replied. "The night that Voldemort murdered her."

Neville's face went white. "But how could that happen? She's been...gone...for nearly your whole life."

Hermione piped up. "The scream didn't happen in real time, Neville," she said softly. "Ron and I didn't hear it. Only Harry did."

Harry nodded in agreement, and Neville sighed. "And that was only one Dementor. Now we're facing potentially hundreds at once."

"We are," Hermione said. "But we have to stay strong. We can't falter. If we do, we're all doomed to a world of hell and suffering that we'll never be able to escape from."

Harry put his hand on Neville's shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. "We can do this, Neville," he encouraged his friend. "All we have to do is stay focused, and keep our goals in sight. Driving the Dementors away, and protecting ourselves and everyone else, those are our goals. Don't you forget them, okay?"

"Alright, Harry," Neville murmured. "I'll try."

"I know you can do it," said Harry. "You have far more courage than you give yourself credit for, you know."

Neville scoffed and began to open his mouth to argue, when Harry's attention was suddenly diverted elsewhere. He was looking over at Hermione, who was staring out the window, seemingly frozen where she stood. "Harry? Neville?" she said feebly, not bothering to look back at them.

"What is it, Hermione?" Neville asked.

Hermione said nothing, and Harry and Neville approached her on either side. They followed her gaze across the Hogwarts grounds, far into the distance. The three watched as a black, ominous-looking cloud began to rise from the trees at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. It seemed to be moving quite slowly, but as it got closer, that was not proved to be the case; it was, in fact, approaching the castle at near-breakneck speed. And not a moment after it came into the students' line of sight, their skin began to prickle with chills all over their bodies, practically cutting into their limbs.

On instinct, Harry grabbed Hermione's hand, and she grabbed Neville's. "This is it," she whispered, not even bothering to steady her voice.

The Dementors had finally arrived.

…

...

The door to Malfoy Manor creaked open, and Snape gingerly stepped inside, silently surveying his surroundings. The Manor looked the same as it always had; old, emerald fixtures decorating the walls and ceilings, furniture that seemed extremely dated, and an atmosphere that seemed more musty and fragile than anything else. His dark eyes scanned the picture frames on the walls of the sitting room, recognizing the faces of Lucius' mother and father, as well as his grandparents and great-grandparents. In contrast, barely any of Narcissa's relatives were visible on the wall; Snape assumed that the reason for that was the Black family's association with everything Lucius hated. Of course, Lucius Malfoy was also a prejudiced prick; he always had been that way. Snape stared sadly at Lucius and Narcissa's portraits for a moment before forcing himself to move on.

As he cautiously entered the living room, Snape caught a whiff of a peculiar scent that didn't seem to belong in a dusty old living room; it smelled to him like a garden, maybe one full of flowers or other obnoxiously-colored plants. _That's odd._

After pacing around the room for a few minutes, Snape spied an issue of the _Daily Prophet_ on the table, directly in front of the leather sectional. He raised an eyebrow, and picked it up to examine it closely.

"What in Merlin's name?" Snape whispered to himself. He was not looking at the headline, or the article Rita Skeeter had written about Cornelius Fudge's encounter with the Dementors.

He was looking at the date.

"Saturday, December 9th. Why is yesterday's paper in the Malfoys' house if they're both gone?" he said quietly. "Unless…"

Snape dropped the paper back on the table, looking around the Manor cautiously. Unless someone was there, and had been coming there ever since Lucius and Narcissa had been Kissed by the Dementors.

Steadying himself, Snape drew his wand from the folds of his cloak. "Hello?" he called out. "Whoever you are, come out right now! That's an order!"

The moment Snape said those words, he heard a loud crashing sound coming from the upstairs portion of the Manor, making him flinch. "Show yourself!" he shouted, approaching the staircase with his wand held out in front of him.

He was then startled to hear the sound of a gravelly feminine voice, coming from upstairs. "Leave!" the voice screamed back. "Get out! You are not welcome here!"

The voice sounded oddly like that of Bellatrix Lestrange, who Snape hadn't heard from ever since Lord Voldemort was vanquished. "Reveal yourself!" he boomed back. "I warn you...I am armed!"

He heard the sound of heeled shoes stumbling across the wooden floor, and a door creaked open. Snape turned his attention toward the top of the bannister, ready to hex the intruder at a moment's notice. Until the stranger stumbled into his view, and he nearly dropped his wand in shock.

He recognized the so-called stranger, or at least, who he had assumed to be a stranger. He recognized the dark, carefully-sewn gown she had worn to dinner party after dinner party. Her vaguely familiar wand, plain and black and powerful, was clutched in her hand. He knew the oddly-colored hair, inherited from her mother's side of the family. He practically gawked at how worn and weathered her face had become, teeming with many wrinkles and stress lines. But most of all, he knew her by her eyes, dark and dangerous and practically identical to one of Snape's own students. And the moment he saw her face, her voice rang in his ears again.

The voice of a very terrified, frustrated, and exhausted Narcissa Malfoy.

…

…

The sight of the Dementors in the distance was downright horrifying, to say the very least. And as they drew closer and closer to the castle, Hermione's determined mindset began to visibly break. "Harry, I can't do this! Not again!"

Harry glanced worriedly over at his best friend. "Hermione, what are you talking about? Of course you can do this!" he exclaimed.

Hermione turned her back on the window. A sudden storm of doubt had clearly begun to envelope her since the moment she'd seen the army of Dementors, and Neville looked at her, obviously concerned. "Hermione, you're the one who's been saying that we _can_ do this!" he exclaimed.

"What the bloody hell did I know?!" Hermione cried angrily.

Harry stepped forward. "Hermione, listen to me. If you lose your cool, others will soon follow suit. You have to stay strong for-"

Before Harry even had the chance to finish his sentence, he withdrew his wand from his back jeans pocket. "_Expecto Patronum!"_

The familiar burst of light appeared at the tip of the wand, streaming past Hermione and Neville's heads and out the window. The two terrified Gryffindors turned back to the window, and feelings of horror washed over them both as they came face to face with a Dementor, in the flesh. It was only for a moment, however, as the shield of the Patronus forced it backward toward the ground and away from the tower.

"What the ruddy-?!" Neville yelped.

"Harry!" Hermione cried at the same time.

He lowered his wand, and the light of the Patronus disappeared. "Close call," he murmured, looking the slightest bit shaken.

"Where did it come from?" demanded Hermione.

Harry leaned out the window. "The back of the castle. I should have known they weren't all going to show up together," he moaned.

All of a sudden, Neville gasped. "Harry! The Great Hall!" he exclaimed. "There's nobody guarding it, is there?"

Harry thought back for a moment and grimaced. "No."

"What do we do, then?" Neville asked.

Hermione's eyes widened as Harry's gaze landed on her. "Oh, no," she said in a stoic tone. "No way."

"You have to!" Harry said urgently. "Please, Hermione! Neville and I have to stay here."

Hermione felt a prickling sensation in her nose, and she willed herself to keep her shit together. "Harry, I can't! What if something goes wrong?"

Harry looked her in the eyes. "Hermione, you're one of the most talented witches I know," he said softly. "You've mastered more spells than any of us. You've seen things that others have only dreamed about or heard stories of. Please. Go. If anyone ends up down there, you may be their only hope for protection."

Hermione sighed, slowly gathering her bearings, and pursed her lips. "Alright, Harry. I'll go."

Harry responded by wrapping his arms around her, hugging her tightly. "You'll be okay," he whispered. "I have faith in you."

Tears stung at the corners of Hermione's eyes, and she prayed that they wouldn't fall.

After a moment, Harry let her go, planting a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Now, go on!" he urged. "You have to hurry!"

Hermione gave him a simple nod, shakily smiled at Neville, and forced herself to take off running down the stairs, with her two housemates staring after her.

…

...

As Hermione left the west tower and sprinted off toward the Great Hall, the air became steadily colder, practically burning her exposed skin. "Oh, bloody hell," she muttered. "As if it wasn't cold enough already." She continued to run down the corridor, trying to ignore the stinging cold of the air, and came upon the entrance to the courtyard.

What she saw nearly made her recoil in fright. Ron, Luna, Zacharias, and Seamus were all running about, looking terrified as all hell but trying to hold their ground. Dumbledore was present as well, warding off Dementor after Dementor with his own extraordinarily rare phoenix Patronus, which was flying around the courtyard at an incredible speed indeed. And though Hermione couldn't see the professor herself, she recognized McGonagall's tabby cat Patronus, leaping to and fro. Cries of the Patronus Charm's incantation practically bounced off the walls of the courtyard, expelling Dementors all over the place. Hermione gripped her wand in her hand, desperately wishing she could help.

As Hermione's stare jumped from person to person, she spotted a Dementor advancing on Ron from behind. The redhead was completely unaware, with his attention focused entirely elsewhere. Raising her wand, Hermione concentrated and whispered, "_Expecto Patronum._"

Her own otter Patronus practically zipped across the courtyard, smacking the Dementor away from her friend. She smiled, knowing that for the moment, he was safe.

Gaining her resolve back, Hermione backed away from the courtyard archway and took off again, en route to the Great Hall. She huffed and puffed, becoming readily exhausted with every breath she extracted from her lungs. "Curse this cold," she grumbled, pressing on.

Before Hermione even reached the Great Hall, she knew something was horribly wrong...and a bloodcurdling scream emanating from the Hall itself confirmed it for her. She practically doubled her speed, ignoring the burning sensation in her legs, and skidded to a stop at the doors, spotting a third-year Ravenclaw named Doran Martellini. He was scampering across the stone floor rather clumsily, trying to escape the threat of the Dementor hovering menacingly above him.

Hermione gasped, and pointed her wand straight at the deadly creature. "_Expecto Patronum!_"

Her loud screech alerted the Dementor to her presence, and it turned its attention on her in an instant. But it was too late. The silver light burst from the end of her wand, pushing the dark creature away from Doran and out one of the large windows in the Great Hall. The glass shattered noisily, and Hermione approached the window, peeking cautiously out.

The Dementor was gone.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Hermione turned to Doran. "What in the name of Godric Gryffindor are you doing in here?!" she exclaimed.

"I'm sorry!" the boy stuttered. "I-I don't know where everyone else went! And then that thing attacked me, and-"

Hermione bent down next to him and spoke softly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell," she apologized. "It's been a hard morning."

He nodded vehemently. "So where is everyone?"

"The members of Dumbledore's army are out there, fighting," Hermione replied, sitting back. "Some are guarding the House Towers, or other places in the castle."

"Where do I go, then?" Doran asked, beginning to panic.

Hermione placed her hand on his back. "Calm down. I'll get you somewhere safe," she said. "Come on!"

With Hermione's help, Doran managed to make his way to his feet, and she led him out of the Great Hall. "Where are we going?" he asked impatiently.

"You'll see," Hermione replied cryptically.

Before long, they made it to the Room of Requirement, where Justin, Padma, and Lavender were still standing guard. "What's this place?" Doran wondered aloud.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "The Room of Requirement," she answered. "Now, get yourself inside and stay there!" She gave him a gentle nudge before running off in the opposite direction, ready to defend anyone else who would potentially venture into the Great Hall.

…

…

Snape was in complete and utter shock. For a moment, he thought he was seeing a ghost; but then, that possibility wouldn't make sense, given the process of the Dementor's Kiss.

"Narcissa?" he finally managed to sputter.

The woman kept her wand raised, staring icily down at him. "Severus, what are you doing in my house?!" she demanded.

"I thought you were dead!" Snape blurted out, before realizing what he'd said.

Narcissa began to descend down the stairs, fixing her stony gaze on him and never once lowering her wand. "Well, Severus, I can assure you, I am not dead!" she shouted. "Now, answer my question. What are you doing here?"

Snape frowned. "I-I'm taking refuge," he answered cautiously. "But that doesn't explain why _you're_ here."

"It's my house," Narcissa shot back. "If anything, _you_ shouldn't be here."

"I had no choice," Snape responded. "Nowhere else is safe for me."

Narcissa reached the bottom of the staircase and glared up at him. "Severus, why don't you explain to me what's going on, and maybe I won't cast you into oblivion here and now."

Snape pocketed his wand. "I mean you no harm, Narcissa," he said. "But I must ask...if you're here, then where's your husband?"

Shock began to register on Narcissa's face, and her enraged demeanor began to fade a little bit. "I...I don't know where he is," she murmured. "I've been searching for him for days.I haven't _seen_ him in days."

A bitter feeling began to well up within Snape, and he looked down at the floor. _She doesn't know what happened to Lucius, _he thought. _She must have been gone when the Dementors attacked. God, this poor woman._

Narcissa seemed to notice his discomfort. "Severus?" she asked gently. "Do you know where Lucius is? Have you seen him?"

He glanced up at her, almost guiltily. "I have not seen him, Cissy. But I do know what happened to him."

"What, then?" she asked. "Tell me, Severus!"

Snape took a deep breath, inwardly wishing that he didn't have to say what he was about to say to her. "Narcissa, Lucius was Kissed by the Dementors of Azkaban. He's gone."

Upon hearing his words, Narcissa crumpled to her knees and began to cry. She dropped her wand on the carpet, but didn't even bother moving to pick it up. Snape looked down at her, visibly broken and raw from getting the news. "I'm sorry you had to find out this way," he murmured.

"How do you know he's gone?" she muttered under her breath, attempting to keep her sobs under control. "Answer me that, Severus."

"We intercepted a letter from the Ministry of Magic," he replied. "At Hogwarts. Telling us that you and Lucius had both been...attacked. And that you were both gone."

"'We'?" Narcissa demanded. "Who's 'we'?"

Snape gulped. "Well, I intercepted the letter," he answered. "And not by my own means, but...so did Draco."

Narcissa's eyes widened. "You mean, my precious baby boy thinks that I'm dead?!" she roared.

Snape nodded solemnly. "As good as. But Cissy, I can tell him that you're not. He'll be completely overjoyed to hear it."

"I simply cannot believe all of this," whispered Narcissa. "Where is Draco, Severus? Tell me where he is. Now."

Snape sighed. "Narcissa-"

"Tell me where he is!" she repeated harshly. "Tell me where my son is!"

The Potions Master looked into his old friend's eyes, and saw a forlorn, vulnerable woman, as well as a loving, devoted mother who only wanted to know the whereabouts of her last remaining family member, whom she loved with all her heart. So he replied, "He's still at Hogwarts. And he is preparing to defend the rest of his classmates and himself from the very creatures who took your husband away from you."

**A/N: First part of the battle, done! I really enjoyed writing this one, and I hope I've done the Dementors justice so far. We didn't see them a TON on the big screen, and I haven't read the books in forever, so I didn't have a whole lot to go off of and decided to just use my imagination. I hope y'all liked the twist with Narcissa; to be honest, I was planning that from the beginning, and in my mind, it seemed pretty fitting for Snape to be the one to find her.**

**Also, as a fun fact, the idea of Hermione having a dream about playing with kittens came to me after I watched an interview online with the beautiful and hilarious Emma Watson, during which she was answering fan questions with a bunch of adorable kittens playing around her. Plus, Hermione likes cats, so it works perfectly. If you haven't seen the interview, it might be worth checking out on YouTube :)**

**SO, with all that being said, what do you think will happen next? Will anyone fall to the Dementors, and if so, who do you predict? How will Draco fit into this final fight, if he has any impact at all? Is Snape going to do anything to help, or will he follow Dumbledore's orders and stay hidden at Malfoy Manor? Please feel free to PM me or leave a review with your thoughts or predictions; I love reading them and responding. I sincerely hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and I promise that Part 2 will be up soon!**

**-BlackthornUnicorn98**


	13. Chapter 13

**Hey again, readers! As promised, Part 2 of the seventh day is up! This chapter centers more around some of the battle and the events surrounding it. It's not as crazy as the Battle of Hogwarts, obviously, but there are a couple significant revelations in this chapter. The only original character in this chapter as far as I know that is mentioned in this chapter is Doran. I hope you enjoy this addition!**

**IS IT LOVE?: A DRAMIONE STORY**

**Chapter 13: Battles, Losses, and Much-Needed Pep Talks**

**(Day 7, Part 2)**

In the Room of Requirement, Draco was becoming steadily more nervous as the moments passed him by. The entire room full of students was extraordinarily tense as well, barely saying a word to one another, and he tried to keep his outward appearance from showing any fear or apprehension whatsoever, in hopes of helping everyone else.

It wasn't exactly working out very well for him.

As his eyes scanned the room, taking in each and every terrified face in his midst, the huge door opened, revealing Doran Martellini, who was practically in hysterics. Draco recognized the boy as a younger member of Ravenclaw House, and approached him. "Martellini, what are you doing here?" he asked.

"Didn't know where you were!" Doran exclaimed, struggling to catch his breath. "Couldn't find anyone, corridors were empty, then a big black creature, the Demon-something-or-other was following me, and-"

Draco hushed him. "It doesn't matter now," he said softly. "You're safe in here with the rest of us, alright?"

"Glad I escaped," Doran continued, ignoring Draco's words of comfort. "Cold, that creature was...felt like I would freeze my bloody fingers off, but she sent it flying through the window. Thank goodness for that, or else I would have been dead meat."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," said Draco. "Who sent the Dementor flying through the window?"

"What's-her-face with the curly hair," replied Doran. "Potter's friend, I think."

A gentle smile appeared on Draco's lips. The thought of Granger made his heart warm with happiness. "Granger's her name, Martellini."

"That's it!" he exclaimed, waddling over to join a group of his friends, presumably to tell them about his encounter.

Draco smirked after him; Doran Martellini was quite an interesting kid, to say the least.

The minutes continued to pass, each one slower than the next, but just as Draco was deciding that it wouldn't hurt him to sit down for a few minutes, the sound of alarmed shouting reached his ears. Immediately alerted, Draco turned his attention toward the door, which unfortunately hadn't been closed when Doran rushed in.

"_Expecto Patronum!_" he heard Lavender scream.

Her words were followed closely by a bright flash of light, and Draco turned to the students behind him. "Stand back!" he shouted. They moved back against the wall without questioning his orders, and Draco peeked through the door, only to see two huge Dementors mere yards away. Lavender was dealing with one, which didn't seem to be relenting, and Justin was dealing with another. Draco's eyes widened at the sight, and before he had a chance to jump into action, he heard Padma's voice beckoning to him.

"Malfoy! Over here!"

To his surprise, Padma had practically materialized outside the door on the next wall, and he raced over to her. "What do we do?"

"Take them to the dungeons!" she said frantically. "Madam Hooch is there. We'll distract the Dementors. You have to get the others to safety!"

Draco nodded his understanding, and while Padma raced around the corner to distract the Dementors, Draco motioned to the rest of the room. "Come on, all of you! We have to go to the dungeons! NOW!"

Fright washed over the entire room like a tidal wave, but they obeyed; one by one, each student scurried out the door and down the corridor, practically running for their lives. Draco watched carefully as he waved the students along down the cold corridor, keeping an eye out for the Dementors.

Finally, the last student, a fourth-year Hufflepuff girl that he didn't really recognize, made her way out, and Draco took off running behind her. He continued to watch for the Dementors over his shoulder, and eventually he spotted Padma and Justin fending one of them off together. "RUN, MALFOY!" Padma screamed after him.

Draco did as he was told, and picked up his speed, forcing himself not to look back.

By the time they reached Terry Boot, Madam Hooch, and the Slytherin dungeons, Draco couldn't breath. His limbs ached and burned, and he had to mentally will himself not to collapse on the ground. One of the Slytherins in the group muttered the password, and the door opened, allowing the huge group of students to flood in. Confusion appeared on the faces of the sixth and seventh-year students almost instantly, and Draco ran right up to Blaise. "Do not open this door once it closes," he warned darkly.

"Why aren't they in the Room of Requirement?" Blaise asked. "That _was_ where you were keeping them, wasn't it?"

"It was breached," replied Draco. "Two Dementors almost got in. But Brown, Patil, and Finch-Fletchley are fighting them off now."

Blaise regarded his friend with worry. "What about you?"

Draco bit his lip. "I have to go help. They need me, Blaise," he said.

To Draco's surprise, Blaise nodded. "Do what you have to do. We'll keep them safe. I promise you that."

"Thanks, mate," Draco said gratefully. "I owe you one."

And with that, he sprinted away, motioning for Terry to shut the doors again.

…

...

Narcissa gaped. "You must be joking!"

"I'm afraid this is not a joke, Cissy," Snape muttered. "Far from it, as a matter of fact."

"And you're not there helping him?! You're cowering here instead? Severus, what is the matter with you?" she exclaimed, obviously shocked.

"It was not my decision to make," explained Snape. "The Headmaster thought it best to remove me from the castle because of my involvement with the Death Eaters. The Dementors are after all of Voldemort's followers, Narcissa. That's why they took your husband. That's why I'm taking refuge here."

Narcissa was furious. "To hell with Albus Dumbledore!" she shouted, wagging her finger at Snape. "He has no power over you, Severus! I cannot believe that you would abandon your school and your home on the orders of an old man who thinks he knows everything there is to know!"

"My presence there would endanger them," he said quietly. "The Headmaster thinks that if the Dementors know I'm not there, they'll stay away from Hogwarts."

"That's a positively idiotic notion," Narcissa grumbled. "If you were a good man, Severus, you wouldn't think twice about going back to Hogwarts and protecting my son. I've lost my husband, and I can't bear the thought of losing Draco as well. Please. I beg of you. Go back and help him."

She stood there, pleading desperately with him, while Snape looked on wordlessly, wondering to himself if he had actually made the right decision or not.

…

…

Draco stumbled through the familiar dark hallway that he had ventured into just a few days before, along with Hermione. It still looked the same as it always had; same puddles of water decorating the dirty floor, same patch of light coming in from the small opening he'd made; same smell that reminded him of a wet dog.

He couldn't help but feel a horrible knot in the pit of his stomach after running away from the fight that he'd been preparing for since he'd asked Snape to teach him the Patronus Charm. All he had wanted was to help defend the castle that had practically became his second home over the last five-and-a-half years, along with everyone in it. That was the goal that he had set, and he'd become determined to accomplish it somehow...with a little bit of convincing from Hermione, of course.

But all that had flitted away from him in an instant when he'd seen the Dementor.

Oh, sure, he'd heard them described in exquisite detail plenty of times before. He'd seen pictures of the creatures in textbooks here and there. He'd even seen them through the mist once, during a Quidditch match, albeit very high up in the air. Those times hadn't really affected him very much, if even at all.

But the moment he'd laid eyes on the creature that Justin and Padma were attempting to duel away, he panicked. Not outwardly, so people could see, but inwardly, within his mind. The Dementor seemed so much more threatening, so much more _horrifying_, than he'd imagined it to be, and when that realization hit him after getting the other students to safety, he'd run away.

Granted, he didn't go very far. He'd found himself down in one of the lesser-known cellars of Hogwarts, and he was hyperventilating like a scared little child. And what he hated most was that he couldn't stop thinking of his father through all of it. Though he'd loved Lucius to the ends of the earth, the man had a multitude of questionable qualities, besides being a downright jackass, but one of his most notable ones was him being a coward.. Lucius had always been a coward...as long as Draco had known him, in fact, always talking a tough game but eventually running away from the conflict, no matter the form that it presented itself in or the circumstances of the situation.

And Draco scolded himself for running, like his father would have.

Kicking at the water on the floor, Draco made his way into the dark, dingy room that held the Founders' portrait on the wall. "_Lacarnum Inflamari,_" he said softly, pointing his wand straight at the torch.

It sprang to life, lighting the room only a little bit more, and Draco collapsed on the small sofa. "What's wrong with me?" he muttered to himself. "Why can't I do this? What would Granger think of me if she saw me right now?"

"Mr. Malfoy?" came a voice.

Draco bolted upright at the voice of Helga Hufflepuff, and glanced at the portrait. She looked a bit tired, but gave him a warm smile. "Oh. Yes, madam. It's me," he stammered.

"What in the world are you doing down here?" the kind woman asked, seeming a bit concerned.

"And all by your lonesome, too?" added Rowena Ravenclaw, peeking her head into the frame to look at him.

Draco sighed painfully. "The Dementors are attacking Hogwarts," he said quietly. "Right at this very moment, in fact. I promised to help fight them, but instead, I ran away, like a coward."

Ravenclaw looked somewhat disappointed in him, while Hufflepuff sighed. "Fear is a normal emotion, dear," she said. "It is natural that you would feel this way. The creatures _are _quite scary, in my own personal opinion."

"I know that," replied Draco. "But I was so committed to this before. I still am. And there are so many defenseless people in the castle that are in danger. They can't run away from the Dementors. But I did. One of the people who were supposed to protect them ran away. How pathetic is that?"

"Your fear is understandable," Ravenclaw said solemnly. "And while you should not have run away, that does not make you pathetic, Mr. Malfoy. I can promise you that."

Draco scoffed, running his hand through his hair violently. "Oh yeah? Then tell me what it is that I should do!" he exploded. "If you were in my shoes right now, what would the two of you do?!"

Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw exchanged glances with one another, before the latter spoke up gently. "Mr. Malfoy, darling, come over here. I want to show you something. Come on, step up here."

Slightly caught off-guard by the woman's words, Draco stood up, ignoring the perpetual aching feeling that slithered through his legs. He carefully made his way over to the painting and looked up. "What is it, madam?" he asked.

Ravenclaw smiled an uncharacteristically warm smile at him, and took her diadem gently off her head, running her fingers over the large, blue jewel in the middle. "My dear Mr. Malfoy, what do you see here?" she asked.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "It's your diadem. Your crown. Everyone knows what that is."

"Indeed," said Ravenclaw. "And who is it that usually wears crowns, in your mind?"

"Kings and queens?" wondered Draco. "Lords and ladies?"

Ravenclaw nodded. "Correct. Now, when you think about all of those members of royalty, all those kings and queens and lords and ladies, how do you suppose they felt when taking on the responsibility of ruling over a kingdom?"

He thought for a moment. "Well, I suppose they would feel excited, thinking about all the different things they would get to do as a ruler, right?"

"Right," Ravenclaw answered. "Now, answer me this, young man. Do you think that they faced apprehension when confronted with conflicts? Were they the least bit nervous or scared, do you suppose?"

Draco shrugged. "I would assume that they probably were," he replied. "I mean, they went through wars, disasters, famines, and other terrible times. All of them."

"You're right, young man," Ravenclaw said proudly. "They did indeed face many terrible things during their reigns of power. But no matter what sort of disaster came their way, they prevailed more times than not. Is that true, or is that incorrect?"

Draco sighed, finally beginning to realize where she was going with her analogy. "It's true, madam."

"Right again," said Ravenclaw. "And they faced those things with courage, no matter how fearful they were. They used what intellect they had to make the right decisions, the ones that would bring the most prosperity to their kingdoms and their people. They pushed through their hardships with unwavering determination, regardless of how many times they were tempted to back down from the danger. And through it all, they remained loyal to those whom they loved."

Draco squeezed his eyes shut, thinking of Hermione again.

Hufflepuff piped up next. "You see, my dear, you were determined to help. That is plain to see. An obvious trait of your own Founder's House, I assure you. Now you must find your courage. Channel your intelligence. And remember your loyalty to the ones that you love. And I assure you, you will no longer think of yourself as a coward."

Draco kicked at the corner of a rug that sat nearby. "Yeah, but it's so much easier said than done," he muttered.

"Yes, it is," Ravenclaw agreed. "But so are many other things in life."

Draco tapped his foot anxiously, slowly realizing that those few words she spoke were indeed correct. He had struggled for days to consistently produce a corporeal Patronus, and by way of Professor Snape's teachings and Hermione's encouragement, he'd managed to cast one of the most difficult spells in existence...with a bit of practice, of course. And just when he'd felt like giving up after he learned of his parents' gruesome fate, Hermione had shown up and given him a reason to stay afloat and keep himself moving forward, as his parents would have wanted for him.

If he had the power to do those things, he certainly had the power to face his fear, and that was the moment he realized it.

"I understand," Draco finally murmured. "And you're both right. I have to go back." And without another word to the two Hogwarts Founders, he took off running back the way he came, determined to defend those who needed help, find Hermione, and drive the Dementors away for good.

And Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff watched him go, smiles evident on both of their faces.

…

...

Hermione had been standing guard outside the Great Hall for what seemed to her like hours, long and dragging. Since she'd rescued Doran from the lone Dementor earlier, nobody else had ventured her way, and a part of her was extremely thankful for that fact. But as she stood there, with her wand pointed at nothing, a thought began to nag at her mind.

_What am I still doing here? Harry said that most of the Dementors would target the courtyard...I should be there helping, not here doing nothing. Curse it all._

With that thought in her head, Hermione ran off again, heading to the courtyard with a reformed will and a new purpose.

As she sprinted along past the Transfiguration classroom that McGonagall used to conduct her lessons, Hermione heard the voices of two female students nearby.

"Do you think Harry's alright?" one of the voices said nervously.

"Must you keep asking that?" the other replied in frustration. "My answer isn't going to change, you know."

"I'm sorry," the first voice muttered. "I just can't help worrying for him."

Hermione turned the corner, and was delighted to see Cho and Ginny in front of her, both looking quite exhausted but otherwise unharmed. "What the devil are you two doing down here?" she asked. "I thought you were helping to guard the towers!"

"Madam Pomfrey instructed me to come to the courtyard to help," Ginny replied.

"Dean told me to do the same," Cho added. "He said he had it handled on his own. But enough of that. What are you doing, wandering around here by yourself?"

Hermione shrugged. "I was guarding the Great Hall. Harry asked me to."

"He's completely mad," muttered Ginny. "Left him there with Neville, did you? Boy, I'd love to see how that works out for the both of them. Neville's really hopeless."

Cho looked on nervously, while Hermione had to hold her tongue and remind herself that Ginny's outburst was probably due to the stress of the attack they were currently under, and sighed. "Never mind that now. I'm sure that they need our help. Come on!"

She motioned to her two friends, and the three of them took off for the courtyard together.

…

…

By the time they arrived at the courtyard, even more out-of-breath and exhausted than they'd previously been, it was clear that the danger had intensified. The few students that had been stationed there earlier now looked very worn-down and drained of their energy, as one would typically be expected to feel in the presence of Dementors. Hermione tapped Ginny on the arm. "We have to help! They need us!" she exclaimed.

Ginny nodded her head in agreement, and that's when they saw Luna running toward them. Strands of her curly hair had broken free of her ponytail, flapping as she ran, and her face was even paler than usual. "What are you doing here?" she asked curiously.

"We're here to help," Cho explained. "Thought you might need it."

"Please, do," Luna said breathlessly. "We're all running out of steam. But have you noticed...they're starting to disperse a bit?"

Ginny shook her head. "No, Luna, we hadn't," she said.

"Well, they are," replied Luna, a ghost of a smile on her face. "Some of them have retreated. But there's still so many here."

"We can take them!" exclaimed Hermione. "At least, I hope we can."

Cho glanced at all of them. "Well, let's go, then! We can't just wait here for them to leave," she said, a touch of nervousness in her soft voice.

And with that, the four girls sprinted out into the courtyard together, ready for any potential threats that could come their way.

…

…

Draco clambered out of the dingy hallway after his conversation with Helga Hufflepuff and Rowena Ravenclaw, racing back into the castle and keeping his eyes peeled for Dementors. "Now, let's see," he muttered to himself. "Where did Granger say she was going with Potter and Longbottom? Damn, which blasted tower was it?"

_East? No, that doesn't sound right._

_North? No, the Thomas boy was up there._

_Gryffindor? No, something tells me she's not up there._

_West? That sounds right! West!_

He continued to race along, wincing at the pain that was beginning to shoot up his left leg. "Balderdash, now is not the time for this to happen!" he groaned. Regardless, he kept running, desperate to get to the west tower.

As Draco scampered up a couple of flights of stairs and into one of the corridors nearest to the tower he was looking for, he came upon an alarming sight indeed. There were no Dementors present at all, to his relief, but as he slowed to a jog, he noticed something propped up against the stone wall.

A _person._

"Hey!" shouted Draco. "Hey, you!" He picked up speed and crouched down next to the boy, recognizing him immediately as Neville Longbottom. "Hey, are you alright? Come on, Longbottom! Say something! Don't you go dying on us, now!"

He began to vigorously shake Neville's shoulders, willing him not to be gone, but eventually Neville began to stir. "What's going on?" he mumbled.

"Listen, Longbottom, I'm looking for Granger. Have you seen her?" Draco demanded.

"No," Neville replied weakly.

Draco's eyes widened. "What do you mean? She went up to the west tower with you and Potter! You had to have seen her!"

"I don't know what to tell you, mate," said Neville. "Last time I saw her, Harry was sending her to guard the Great Hall. But maybe she went back to help him. It might be worth checking up there."

Draco jumped to his feet. "Thanks, Longbottom," he said quickly. And without another word on the matter, he sprinted toward the west tower, leaving Neville behind.

By the time Draco got halfway up the next flight of stairs, his legs were burning, and it took all the willpower he could muster not to fall flat on his face. He could feel the sweat trickling down the side of his head from all the running, and he gasped for air. "Come on, you prat. You can do this!" he muttered under his breath, and forced himself to push on.

Finally, Draco reached the top of the stairs, and he let out a huge sigh of relief as he headed down the corridor toward the tower, but an unexpected sight ahead of him stopped him dead in his tracks and a horrified look crossed his pale face.

He could plainly see Harry, but it wasn't the Chosen One himself that nearly made Draco drop his wand in fright...it was the three vicious Dementors who were advancing on him. Draco watched silently as Harry scrambled away from the dark creatures, desperately trying to evade them. The deep, bone-chilling growls of the Dementors nearly made Draco recoil in fear, and he considered turning and running for a fraction of a second. But another petrifying sight soon changed his mind.

The sight of Harry tripping and falling to the ground and his wand flying several yards away from him.

The now defenseless Harry tried to push himself up right away, but the blow to the hard ground had been too much for him to recover from so quickly. The Dementors encircled him, and to Draco's horror, they began to mercilessly suck out the boy's soul. Harry's agonizing screams and groans reached Draco's ears as the Dementors fed on their helpless prey, and Draco gritted his teeth, willing himself not to turn away. To say that he'd never really liked the Potter boy was a vast understatement, but even _he_ didn't deserve a fate as grim as the Dementor's Kiss. Not in a million years.

Bracing himself, Draco pulled out his wand and hid behind one of the pillars nearby. He closed his eyes for a long moment, trying to picture Hermione's face in his mind. At last, amidst all of the confusion, he found her. Her beautiful brown eyes blinked at him, and he could make out the very faint freckles across her rosy cheeks. The mane of curly hair fell flawlessly over her shoulders in gorgeous waves, the ones that he had felt the urge to twirl around his own finger on occasion, just to mess with her. Satisfied, Draco slowly opened his eyes and whispered, "_Expecto Patronum._"

Nothing happened.

Draco shut his eyes again and tried to picture Hermione's face again. "_Expecto Patronum_."

Still nothing.

Feeling a bit more frantic than he had a few moments ago, Draco took in a deep breath, and went back to the night before, when he'd given Hermione the magical locket. The pure happiness and joy shining in her eyes, the feel of her arms around his neck, and the bright smile that had practically taken over her entire face the moment she'd laid eyes on the magic trinket. Draco raised his wand once more, concentrating on that image. "_Expecto Patronum._"

To his complete surprise, the corporeal otter burst forth from the tip of his wand, practically charging at the Dementors. With it went a large shield of positive energy, which sent all three Dementors spiraling down the corridor and away from Harry, who could only push himself up dazedly and watch. The Charm forced them all out one of the nearby windows, shattering the glass noisily, and before long, they were gone.

Draco breathed a heavy sigh, sinking down against the pillar in exhaustion. _I can't believe I did it,_ he marveled silently. _I actually cast it against real Dementors! Granger will be so proud!_

After gathering what little strength he had left, Draco peeked out from behind the pillar to see Harry working his way to his feet on shaking legs. He managed to stumble out of the corridor, grabbing ahold of his wand on the way, and hobbling down the stairs. And he didn't see Draco sitting in the shadows, still completely flabbergasted by his own actions.

…

...

As the minutes went on, Hermione began to realize why Luna, Ron, and the rest of the people in the courtyard looked so dead in terms of their outward appearances. Just being in close proximity with the Dementors was sucking great amounts of energy out of her. Despite this fact, though, she managed to keep going, blasting Dementors away left and right. She did her best not to break her concentration at all, given that summoning the Patronus over and over was quite exhausting; it was proving to be an extremely hard task for her.

Not far away, Luna was clearly struggling as well. "Hermione, I don't know how much longer I can go on!" she cried out.

Hermione motioned her over. "If we stick together, we'll be okay!" she said breathlessly, gripping Luna's hand in one hand and her own wand tightly in the other. "I know we will!"

Her encouragement seemed to help the blonde Ravenclaw a little bit more, and the two stopped in the middle of the courtyard, glancing around at the action that was unfolding in each and every corner.

The sight of the Dementors practically swarming around the front area of the castle was nothing like either of the girls had ever seen. Decorated in cloaks of ebony, the menacing creatures flew in every direction, ready to pounce at the opportunity to subdue a potential victim. Fortunately, those who were present in the courtyard seemed to be doing an exceptional job at warding the beings off, at least for the moment.

Before long, Ginny and Cho joined up with Luna and Hermione. "Are you two okay?" Ginny asked worriedly.

"For now," replied Luna, her eye on a Dementor that seemed to be circling the four girls. "We thought it best to stick together, you know?"

"Great idea!" Cho exclaimed. "We have the advantage when we're together."  
"Exactly," agreed Ginny. "Four of us are stronger than one."

Hermione spoke up next. "Uh, guys? Does that seem a bit...odd...to you?"

The other three girls looked up, and saw that Hermione was referring to the lone Dementor that Luna had spotted hovering high above them. Except, it wasn't just the one Dementor anymore...several more had joined in, and they seemed to be getting closer and closer.

"They're coming!" shouted Hermione, aiming her wand. "Get ready!"

At her words, Ginny, Luna, and Cho all raised their own wands, concentrating on their respective memories. And after a moment, each girl screamed, "_Expecto Patronum!_"

In no time, their individual Patronuses were breaking forth from the ends of their wands and surging through the air around them; Hermione's, a mischievous little otter; Luna's, a curious, energetic rabbit; Ginny's, a majestic stallion; and Cho's, a graceful white swan. All four corporeal Patronuses put up a hell of a fight against the Dementors, who were now just mere feet away from the girls, groaning and growling in frustration. Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione spotted another Patronus, one that looked like a fox, seemingly coming to assist them. It managed to blast one Dementor away from the group, before vanishing into thin air. Across the courtyard, Seamus was cursing loudly and attempting the Charm again, to no avail.

And then, just as Hermione thought that they would prevail, or the Dementors would give up on them, she saw the corporeal swan disappear. "Cho?!" she heard Ginny scream.

There was no answer, and Hermione turned to see that her friend had dropped to the ground, apparently too drained of her energy to continue.

To Hermione's horror, Luna followed suit not long after Cho fell. The rabbit Patronus disappeared moments later, and Luna dropped to her knees, considerably weakened and paler than they had ever seen her before. "Luna! Come on!" Hermione cried.

Again, there came no answer.

Hermione began to channel even more energy, concentrating even harder than before and willing herself to stay focused; without the other two, she and Ginny would have to work twice as hard to keep their Patronuses going.

Unfortunately, it proved to be a lot harder than Hermione had originally thought, but regardless, she gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut, continuing to cling to her memory desperately, and completely unwilling to let it go. But after a few moments, as her resolve started to weaken, she began to do just that.

She began to let it go.

The image of her parents' smiling faces started to fade from her mind, as did the image of her living room, with its pale lavender walls and old Victorian fixtures, and the rare china tea set her mother had collected from a business trip in Japan several years before. In a matter of seconds, the memory sank into a void that she could no longer see, as if it were being taken directly from the depths of her head, and she weakly sank to her knees.

"Hermione! No!" pleaded Ginny. "You have to help me! Please!"

She couldn't manage to form the words to respond to her friend, and her wand clattered to the ground as the last of her energy seeped from her body.

In an instant, the otter disappeared as well, and Hermione began to feel extremely dizzy. She could see the Dementors beginning to close in on them, but her disorientation began to mask the reality that was slowly enveloping her and her friends. And as her legs began to give out, making her shake with violent tremors, she looked ahead of her and laid eyes on Draco, who had just arrived on the scene. He was staring at her with a look of complete and utter horror.

He screamed something at her, but she couldn't make out what it was, and as he began to draw his wand to attempt to help her, Hermione finally collapsed. She landed hard on her back, too weak to even react to the pain of the impact. She mutely stared up at the sky as her vision began to blur, and her view of the early afternoon sun was soon obscured by two Dementors hovering over her. Hermione heard Ginny gasp and fall to the ground next to her, as well as cries of the Patronus Charm emanating from the mouths of half the people in the courtyard, none of which seemed to be working at all; Hermione thought she heard Draco's voice among the clamor, but she couldn't be sure. However, she could just barely make out Professor McGonagall's terrified shriek, but it seemed so far away.

Eventually, she saw nothing but darkness, and the screeching of the Dementors began to block every other sound out. Hermione's whole body froze as a gut-wrenching pain shot through her chest, and she felt herself scream, barely able to register what was happening.

The Dementors had finally gotten ahold of her.

As the strange, painful sensation continued to pulsate through her body, making her twitch uncontrollably, she heard a sobbing noise that couldn't belong to anyone but Harry. The memory of the Triwizard Tournament began to flash through her mind, along with the night that Cedric Diggory had died and Harry had managed to best Voldemort, a happening that he always refused to share intimate details about, no matter how many times people asked him what really happened. She saw Harry's pained expression as he laid over Cedric's lifeless body, wailing and shouting, while Dumbledore and several others tried in vain to yank him away. She would never forget how utterly heartbroken Harry had looked that night; it was one of her worst memories to date, that much was beyond dispute.

As that memory passed, another one took its place: the day that she had been searching through the library when she was no more than twelve years old, searching for any information she could possibly find about the Chamber of Secrets or the monster that lived there. Hermione had finally discovered several vital clues as to what was happening to the students of Hogwarts, when she'd looked into her hand mirror and caught a glimpse of Slytherin's monstrous basilisk behind her. It was the most terrifying creature she had ever laid eyes on, with sharp yellow eyes and a gigantic mouth full of pointed teeth. The indescribable feeling of being paralyzed by the creature soon overtook her, and she prepared to see herself fall to the ground helplessly, unable to move.

The memories began to pass more quickly after that, coupled with the roar of the Dementors and only appearing in her mind for a few seconds before giving way to another, and another, and another after that. With each memory that flooded her mind, Hermione grew weaker and more frail, and a feeling of numbness slowly began to spread through her. She watched the memories take over her mind in rapid succession; the night that Harry and Sirius nearly died at the hands of the Dementors by the lake; travelling home during Christmas only to learn that her grandmother had died; Ron nearly dying at the hands of a giant chess piece during the quest for the Philosopher's Stone. Each memory seemed to suck more life from her, and she began to accept her fate.

And then, as quickly as they had come, the memories were gone. Completely, totally, and irretrievably gone.

_I must be dreaming,_ she thought. _Is this really what death is? A bright light?_

Sure enough, the sight of a blinding, white orb had replaced the vague image of the Dementors above her, mercilessly sucking out her soul. And as the orb grew brighter and brighter, spreading out and practically consuming the whole courtyard, the terrible feeling suddenly dissipated, practically vanishing into nothing. She no longer saw the fearsome Dementors in front of her, and the blinding flash began to fade into a warm, translucent glow, almost protectively hovering around her as she lay motionless on the ground.

Hermione began to gasp for air, overcome with so much emotion all at one time that she could barely breathe. She flailed her arms around wildly, finally grasping Ginny's hand. "G-Gin?" she coughed out.

The redhead was as befuddled as Hermione was, albeit a bit less disoriented, and sat up, pulling Hermione with her. "I-what happened?" she asked slowly, looking around.

Hermione rubbed her eyes, and that was the moment she noticed that the translucent haze around her had started to gradually fade away. She looked over in the direction of Luna, who was slowly coming back to the realm of reality, and was surprised to see the unfamiliar corporeal animal that had apparently just saved their lives. It wasn't Dumbledore's phoenix. It wasn't Seamus' fox. It wasn't Harry's stag, or Neville's St. Bernard, or even Ron's Jack Russell terrier. And it wasn't McGonagall's tabby cat, either.

It was a doe.

Before Hermione had a chance to question it, the Patronus disappeared, and she scrambled over to Cho and Luna, with Ginny close behind. The girls wrapped their arms around each other tightly, utterly scatterbrained by the events that had just transpired. Cho was in tears, Luna and Hermione were both still struggling to catch their breath, and Ginny was shaking all over. At first, the embrace didn't even seem real; they'd all thought, for sure, that they would have been gone by that point.

After a few tense moments, Hermione heard several frantic voices nearby, screaming for all four of them. She rubbed her eyes again, and as her vision fully came back into focus, she was able to make out a few people, students and staff, rushing forward. Ron embraced Ginny, practically in tears, and Hermione, Cho and Luna were surrounded by Zacharias, McGonagall, and Seamus, all of whom were in complete shock after what had just happened, but nevertheless ecstatic that the girls were okay.

All of a sudden, Hermione heard a voice behind her as she began to stumble awkwardly to her feet. "Granger! Oh my God!"

Hermione turned to see Draco practically sprinting toward her, and she finally let her emotions loose. He lifted her off the ground and enveloped her in a desperate, grateful hug, and she began to sob into his shoulder. "Draco! I-I tried to-I mean, they-"

Draco began to stroke her hair soothingly, never once loosening his hold on her. "Shhh," he murmured, trying to steady his voice. "There, there, love. It's all over. They won't hurt you anymore. You're safe."

Hermione continued to cry quietly into his shoulder, locked in the embrace of the boy she cared for so much.

And off to the side, Severus Snape looked on silently, watching the two of them with a satisfied smile across his lips.

…

…

Hermione wasn't sure how long she stayed there in Draco's arms, and she didn't really think to care, either; all she knew was that, by the time she finally got up the strength to finally let go of him, her nerves had calmed themselves quite a bit, and she was no longer short of breath and trembling. As Draco brushed a tangled strand of hair away from Hermione's face, she sighed. "Did you see who cast the doe?" she asked softly. "Do you know who saved us?"

"Truthfully, I wasn't even paying attention," Draco replied sheepishly. "I was too focused on you to look."

"Of course you were," mumbled Hermione, forcing a small smile. "I mean, it's not like I nearly got my soul sucked right out of my body or anything."

Draco patted her on the shoulder. "I love you, Granger, but it's far too soon for you to be that cynical," he said.

"Yeah. I suppose you're right," Hermione agreed quietly, leaning her head on Draco's chest and allowing his arms to cage her in again.

He kissed her gently on the top of her head, and looked around, noticing that the courtyard had grown emptier in the past couple of minutes. "Granger, the Dementors are all gone," he whispered. "Whoever saved you...I think they sent the rest of them away. We've won."

Hermione breathed a sigh of pure relief, releasing all of the tension that had been building up inside her. She could feel a tear as it slid down her cheek, and sniffed quietly. "Thank goodness."

"Hey, hey," said Draco, noticing that she was starting to cry again. "There will be none of that. Everything is okay now, do you hear me? We're all safe. My friends, your friends-"

At his words, Hermione looked up. "Harry! Blimey, Draco, where's Harry?"

"I'm sure he's fine, Granger," he replied, trying to hide the smirk on his face. "In fact, I know he is. Potter may be an arrogant git, but he sure as hell doesn't go down without a fight. Oh, speak of the devil."

Hermione turned around, following Draco's gaze, and standing in the archway was Harry himself, looking quite battered and exhausted. He had his arm around Neville, who looked even worse off, but regardless, the two boys were alive and supporting one another as they stumbled into the courtyard.

"Harry!" Hermione cried, overwhelmed at the sight of her two friends. "Neville!" She broke away from Draco and engulfed them both in a hug. Draco watched in amusement as Ginny, Ron, Luna, and Seamus followed Hermione's lead, frantically running over to the two Gryffindors and practically smothering them both with relieved hugs.

"Where have you two tosspots been?!" Ron asked, clapping Harry on the back. "We thought we lost you, mates!"

"You both look like you were hit by a train," Seamus added matter-of-factly.

Neville smirked. "And you say that like you look much better," he said snidely, eliciting a laugh from Ginny and Harry.

As the group conversed jovially with one another, Dumbledore began to approach. "Well, students, I believe it's safe to say that we have successfully defended our home from the Dementors of Azkaban," he boomed. "You will all be rewarded for the parts you played today. Professor McGonagall, if you wouldn't mind joining me to locate the rest of the students?"

"Of course, Albus," the old witch replied, following him out of the courtyard.

Draco watched as Hermione talked with her friends, and frowned. "What's wrong with me?" he murmured. "Why couldn't I save her? The Charm worked before!"

"Mr. Malfoy, does it _really_ matter?" asked a deep voice behind him.

Startled, Draco turned around and saw Snape observing him. "What in the blazes do you mean, Professor?" he asked.

"Oh, come now, boy," said Snape. "Look at her. She is alive and well, is she not?"

Draco shrugged. "I suppose she is, sir."

"Well, then, you'd best be grateful that you still have her," replied Snape, sending a sideways glance at Hermione. "Just as she is grateful that she still has everyone close to her. Consider that."

"You're right, Professor," Draco said softly. "I should be glad that she's still here. But I just don't understand why the Charm didn't work when I tried to save her. I've cast it successfully several times, so why should it be any different this time around?"

Snape shrugged. "You forget. The situations have all been different thus far. For example, watching the person you care so deeply for being attacked and trying to save them...that is quite a different situation than watching the person you've been at odds with for years and trying to save them, Mr. Malfoy," he said. "Difference in stakes, I suppose."

Draco's eyes widened at his professor's words. "How-how did you-I mean, I don't-" he began to stutter.

Snape held up his hand. "If there is one thing you should know about me, Mr. Malfoy, it is that I am an extraordinarily observant individual," he said, the tiniest smirk on his face. "And personally, I'd consider you a fool if you did not inform Granger of your valiant actions. After all, you are the sole reason that Mr. Potter is still here. Miss Granger still has one of her closest friends, thanks to you."

"I didn't know you saw that," Draco mumbled, looking down at the ground.

The Potions Master opened his mouth to speak again, when Hermione's voice rang out loudly. "Draco! Is everything alright?"

He felt her grasp his hand, and Snape nodded curtly. "Good day, Mr. Malfoy. Miss Granger." And he strode away, never once looking back.

Draco watched him go. "That man is quite odd," he murmured.

Hermione snickered. "And you're just now coming to this realization, are you?" she teased.

"No, Granger. Trust me, I've known that for a while," he said. "But he means well, even if it doesn't seem so."

"I'd believe it," replied Hermione. "Even if he does get irritated over stupid things sometimes. I know he cares."

Draco nodded. "He does."

Hermione said nothing and wrapped her arm around his waist, staring up at the sky, which had begun to noticeably clear up since the departure of the Dementors. Draco slid his arm around her shoulders, taking in the silence with ease. He would have been perfectly content to stand there with her for the rest of the day, to block everything else out and just watch as the day turned into evening, and evening into night.

Nothing would have made him happier.

"Oi, Hermione!"

Draco snapped out of his thoughts, and he and Hermione both turned at the sound of her name being called. The voice had apparently come from Seamus Finnigan, who actually looked quite frightened at that very moment. Hermione raised an eyebrow in confusion upon seeing his expression, as well as the group of students retreating back into the castle. "Seamus? What is it? Is something wrong?" she asked nervously.

Seamus strode quickly up to her. "It's McGonagall. And Dumbledore. They're back already," he replied.

"And this concerns me...why?" Hermione asked.

Seamus took a deep, shaky breath. "I guess they...they found someone. Someone who fell victim to the Dementors."

His words sent a terrible chill down Hermione's back, and she visibly stiffened, which startled Draco almost as much as what Seamus had said. "They what?!" she cried, looking back and forth between the two boys in horror.

"Just come on, you two," Seamus said impatiently.

Hermione and Draco exchanged nervous glances as they followed Seamus and the rest of the other students from the courtyard, terrified of what was to come.

…

…

By the time they got to the Room of Requirement, Hermione could barely stand the anxiety of the situation anymore. She pushed through the crowd of students who had gathered at the looming door, standing in near silence at the sight that lay before them.

Or, rather, the _person_ who lay before them.

Lavender's body looked unnaturally cold and dull, especially from such a short distance away. The look of surprise and shock was still clearly etched upon her face, even in her lifeless state, and her wand was several feet away from her body.

Hermione gasped at the sight of her roommate, who was now nothing more than a cold shell of a girl, and tears began to spill from her eyes. She noticed Ron, who looked _beyond_ distraught upon seeing his ex-girlfriend in her current state, stumbling over and collapsing at her side, sobbing freely. Parvati was already there, kneeling beside the body of her best friend and crying quietly. Nearby were Justin and Padma, the other two students who had been guarding the Room of Requirement along with Lavender. Padma was crying as well, and Justin was doing his best to comfort her, without much success.

Draco immediately took Hermione in his arms, willing himself to look away and feeling a tear of his own trickle down his cheek. She wept silently into his chest, feeling an immeasurable dollop of anguish and trying to ignore the huge lump that had arisen in her throat.

McGonagall crouched down next to Lavender, feeling her forehead with the back of her hand. "Albus, the girl is gone. But we cannot just leave her here," she said solemnly.

"Indeed, Minerva," the old Headmaster said softly. "I shall send Madam Pomfrey to collect the bodies and take them to St. Mungo's immediately. They must be cared for."

A distressed Harry suddenly spoke up. "Wait a moment, Professor. Did I hear you right? _Bodies?_ As in, more than one?"

Dumbledore looked up. "You did indeed hear me correctly, Harry," he said. "I'm afraid that Miss Brown is one of two students that we have lost today."

Harry clamped his mouth shut, exchanging a remorseful look with Ginny.

Despite the reality, Dumbledore continued on. "Mr. Longbottom? Would you be so kind as to do me a favor?"

All eyes panned to Neville, who was clearly trying to hold back tears. "Yes, sir, Professor Dumbledore."

"Go down to the Slytherin common room and collect the rest of the student body. Instruct them to go to the Great Hall at once," Dumbledore said.

Neville nodded, and without a word, he ran off.

Dean Thomas, who had just arrived on the scene, leaned over to Harry. "How did he know they were down in the dungeons?" he whispered. "We never shared that plan with him, did we? So how did he know?"

Luna and Ginny both scoffed. "He's Dumbledore," they said in unison, before giving one another confused looks.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "As for all of you, I must insist that you go to the Great Hall as well," he said loudly. "Now."

At the Headmaster's urging, the entire group began to shuffle out. Ginny ran forward and managed to pull Ron up from the floor, though he initially begged her to leave him be. McGonagall ushered Parvati along, aided by Padma and Justin, and soon, Lavender's body was completely out of sight.

**A/N: So, the battle is finally over, and now they have to deal with the aftermath. As expected, it may not be easy for some of the characters. But this was a really fun chapter for me to write, given that most of the battle takes place here. I hope the scene with the Dementors was alright...as mentioned before, I really just used my imagination as to what it may feel like to the victims.**

**For the record, Neville's Patronus was never revealed in the series, as far as I know. I couldn't find the answer when I searched for it, since it only represented itself as a non-corporeal form, so I came up with the idea of his Patronus being a St. Bernard. St. Bernard dogs are loyal, protective, and sensitive. They are committed to those they care about, and they can be brave and tough, but also teddy bears. In my mind, that describes Neville to a T.**

**Anyways, the last chapter will be up very soon. I'm almost done figuring out how I want it to play out, so stay tuned! As usual, feel free to leave me a review or PM me with your thoughts and predictions. Happy reading!**

**-BlackthornUnicorn98**


	14. Chapter 14

**Hello, my crazy readers! Yes, the final chapter is here, and I really do hope that it's an enjoyable read for you all, and that you all are happy with how it ends. Once again, I do not own the characters in this story, other than the original ones that I have already mentioned. **

**IS IT LOVE?: A DRAMIONE STORY**

**Chapter 14: Revelations, Renewals, and Romantic Reconciliations**

**(Day 7, Part 3)**

In all of her years at Hogwarts, Hermione had never seen the Great Hall in the state that it was in as the students began to enter that afternoon. Normally, the room was filled with lively chatter and the sound of people munching cheerily away at their food. They always entered in an orderly fashion, sitting at their respective House tables and conversing brightly with their fellow classmates about how their classes had gone or other matters of interest.

Not today.

Not very many people were actually sitting at the tables assigned to their Houses. Nobody was in a good mood. And barely anyone was talking at all; everyone was too shell-shocked by the earlier events of that day to even know what to say to one another.

Hermione sat in silence at the Gryffindor table with her chin in her hands. Harry sat to her right, and Draco to her left, both too stunned to even break the silence that had consumed the room. Ron sat across the table, fixated on a tiny smudge across the tabletop. Ginny sat next to him, trying to comfort him as best she could, and Luna and Cho sat next to Ginny, far too nervous to say anything at all. Parvati and Padma sat together not far away, as well as Dean and Seamus. And nobody was bothering to speak a single word.

Before long, Neville entered the room, followed closely by the rest of the students that had been hiding out in the Slytherin dungeons, in addition to the older Slytherin students and everyone who had been guarding the towers around the castle. They all looked relatively unharmed, and upon seeing them, Luna sighed. "Glad they all made it out okay," she murmured.

"Tell me about it," agreed Draco.

Neville sat down next to Ron, who started flicking at the table. "She _volunteered_ to do it," he muttered. "She _wanted_ to help. Why the bloody hell did I let her go? Why didn't I try harder to stop her?"

Ginny patted his arm. "Ron, there was nothing you could have done to stop her. She made her decision and nothing you could say would have changed that."

Ron closed his eyes, shaking his head softly.

Hermione sighed and reached across the table, taking his hand. "Ronald, you can't blame yourself," she said sternly.

"It's true, mate," Harry added. "And what matters is that she helped save so many other innocent, defenseless people who didn't deserve a fate like that. She's a hero for that, you know."

Ron glared up at him. "Yeah, but _she_ didn't deserve such a bloody awful fate, either," he said quietly.

Hermione nodded. "I know, Ron. I know she didn't."

He said nothing as she squeezed his hand in a feeble attempt to comfort him, when Draco suddenly spoke up. "Weasley, I know it may not seem like it to you, but I know exactly what you're going through."

"Oh, really?" demanded Ron, narrowing his eyes and abruptly letting go of Hermione's hand. "You know what it's like to lose somebody you care about to those traitorous, soul-sucking leeches? Really, Malfoy? Oh, do explain that to me."

His angry stare took Draco a bit by surprise, but regardless, he continued on. "Yes, Weasley, as a matter of fact, I do know what it's like."

Ron crossed his arms. "Enlighten me, prat."

"Draco," whispered Hermione, a worried look in her eyes. "You don't have to talk about what happened. Just let him be."

He responded by gently entwining his pinkie finger around hers in an act of reassurance, and continued. "If you must know, Weasley, a couple of days ago, I received a letter explaining that the Dementors had invaded my home and Kissed both of my parents," he said.

Harry's mouth dropped open, and both Ginny and Luna were both clearly shocked. Ron barely showed any reaction at all, but Hermione did notice that his angry look began to slowly fade away.

"I was in the same mindset you are," Draco continued on, unfazed by their reactions. "Knowing that there was any possibility that I could have done something to help, and blaming myself for what happened to them. As if it was completely my fault, which I know now that it wasn't."

Ron looked down at the table again. "So how did you get over that feeling of guilt, then?" he asked, almost inaudibly.

Draco exhaled steadily, trying to ignore the prickling, peppery sensation that had made its way into his nose. "To tell you the truth, I don't know if I've completely gotten over it yet," he admitted softly. "But I realized, with a little help from someone else, that it wouldn't help anything if I just kept dwelling on it. There was nothing I could do to change what happened, and I knew that my parents would want me to keep going, and not drive myself completely mad wallowing in my own grief and asking myself what could have been. I found my own reasons to keep fighting and holding on, and as hard as it may be at times, that's exactly what you need to do. Find a reason to carry on, because that's exactly what Lavender would have wanted for you, and you know that."

For a moment, Ron didn't react to Draco's words, and continued to stare at the table. However, he soon looked up with the faintest of smiles on his face. "I suppose you're right. Thanks for that, Malfoy."

"You're welcome, Weasley," replied Draco.

Hermione smiled proudly at the two boys, thankful that they were finally listening to one another about something and finding some common ground. She looped her arm through Draco's and whispered in his ear. "You finally got through to him. Great job, Ferret."

"Why thank you, Granger," he replied sarcastically.

She leaned her head on his shoulder and smiled over at Harry, who still looked utterly dumbfounded by what Draco had said.

After a few minutes of silence, Hermione and her tablemates noticed Dumbledore approaching the podium, closely followed by McGonagall, Sprout, and several other members of the faculty, including Snape. Harry wrinkled his nose. ""Hey, Ron. Wasn't Snape gone this morning? He wasn't with the rest of the staff, was he?"

"Don't think so," Ron replied. "What do you suppose he's doing here now?"

"You got me," muttered Harry.

"Both of you, shush," Cho whispered from a few feet away.

Dumbledore began to speak. "As I understand it, this morning has been quite trying for all of you," he boomed. "And in light of that grim fact, as a thank you to each and every one of you for your exceptional shows of bravery and courage in these last few days, my staff and I have decided to give you all the day off from your classes tomorrow."

A scattered clamor erupted throughout the Great Hall, and Hermione looked back and forth between her friends. "_Only_ a day off? Are they serious?"

Ron shrugged. "It's better than nothing, I suppose. Quite considerate, actually, given what we went through today."

Luna nodded in agreement. "Very much so."

Hermione shrugged, and Dumbledore continued to talk. "Now that we are all back, and the attack has ended, I would like you all to go back to your dormitories. As mentioned before, for anyone who was not present, the bodies of Lavender Brown and Ernie Macmillan shall be transported to St. Mungo's to be cared for in their current states."

Harry gasped. "Ernie? He was the other one?" he moaned quietly.

"He was guarding the library," Neville said sadly. "By himself."

They all stared at each other, coming to grips with the reality that not one, but two of their sixth-year friends were now gone, and Dumbledore spoke up once more. "Now, off you go! We will have food prepared for you by five o'clock! Get going, all of you!" With that, he stepped away from the podium and disappeared through one of the nearby doors.

As Draco started to get up, Hermione touched his arm. "I'm going to go talk to Terry for a second," she said. "Ernie was his best friend."

"Of course, love," Draco replied, smiling warmly. "I'll just wait here."

"Thank you!" Hermione said, kissing him quickly on the cheek and bolting toward the front of the room.

Draco sat back down on the bench, watching as the other students crowded out of the room, and he noticed Harry rising to leave. "Oh, by the way, Potter, why don't we just call it even, huh? After that whole fiasco at the Quidditch match, you know."

Harry stopped short. "Excuse me?"

"You know," said Draco. "You saved my arse, and now I've saved yours. That means we're square, doesn't it?"

To Draco's surprise, Harry snorted with laughter. "I don't mean to be rude or anything, Malfoy, but since when have you _ever_ saved me from anything?" he asked. "I don't ever recall a single time."

"Come on, Potter," groaned Draco. "I know you don't want to admit that you nearly lost to a few Dementors, but I swear, I won't tell anyone if you'd rather I keep it to myself."

Harry crossed his arms over his chest, becoming steadily irritated. "For the love of Godric, Malfoy, I don't know what you mean!" he exclaimed. "You're completely mad."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Potter, you are truly impossible," he grumbled. "Earlier today, up near the west tower. You were being attacked by Dementors, and I saved your arse. Fairly easily, I must admit. I mean, don't get me wrong, the Patronus Charm can be so tricky, but I-"

Harry burst out laughing, cutting Draco off. "Oh, now I _know_ you're mad," he huffed. "Malfoy, there's no way you could have saved me from those Dementors. Would you like to know why?"

"Do tell, Scarhead," Draco muttered, gritting his teeth.

"_Because_," said Harry. "You weren't there! It's as simple as that! But you know who _was_ there? Hermione! _Hermione_ was there, and _she_ saved me. Not you."

"If I recall, Granger was in the courtyard when it happened," Draco shot back.

Harry scoffed. "I think I'd recognize my best friend's Patronus if I saw it somewhere, Malfoy," he said angrily.

"You mean _my_ Patronus!" groaned Draco.

"It wasn't yours!" Harry argued. "It was an otter. _Hermione's_ Patronus. I've seen her cast it a million times. You probably mistook yours for a bleeding ferret. Matches your personality well enough, too."

Draco shook his head. "Blimey, Potter, you're thicker than I thought. See, the otter is _my_ Patronus. Do you hear? Mine!"

"Rubbish!" shouted Harry.

"Both of you, that's enough!"

"Draco? Harry? What's going on here?"

Both boys turned to see Hermione approaching them, looking very worried. And a few steps behind her was Professor Snape, who wore an obvious a scowl on his face.

Harry spoke up first. "Professor, Malfoy is trying to convince me that he saved me from the Dementors today!"

"That's because I did!" Draco protested.

"Liar!"

"Mouth breather!"

"Pathetic shithole!"

Snape stepped in between the two bickering boys. "I said _enough!_" he scolded. "Don't make me tell you again!"

Draco sighed, and turned to Hermione. "Potter, let's settle this a different way. Granger, after you left the west tower, did you see him at all?"

Hermione shook her head. "Not for a while. Not until he and Neville walked into the courtyard, actually," she answered.

"So you didn't see him encounter any Dementors while you were up there?" Draco asked.

She glanced at Harry. "No...wait, you were attacked by Dementors? Are you alright?"

Harry groaned in frustration. "Hermione, if anyone else, you would be the one who could answer that question!" he said. "You drove them away!"

"No, Harry, I didn't," Hermione said softly.

"Told you so," interjected Draco, noticing that Snape had sent him a sideways glance.

Harry glanced at Draco again. "I don't believe this."

"I'll prove it to you, Potter," said Draco. He whipped out his wand, concentrated for a brief moment, and murmured, "_Expecto Patronum_."

Almost instantly, the corporeal otter was expelled from his wand, soaring high above their heads and careening through the air. It surrounded the group a couple of times before vanishing into thin air right above Snape's head.

Draco pocketed his wand. "See? What did I tell you?"

His eyes then fell on Hermione, whose hand had flown straight to her mouth. She looked positively bewildered, and for a moment, Draco thought that it was because she was proud of him. However, it soon became glaringly obvious that her expression did not convey happiness...it conveyed something else that Draco couldn't exactly define.

But it didn't really seem good.

Slowly, Hermione pulled out her own wand and whispered, "_Expecto Patronum_."

An identical otter burst forth from Hermione's wand, scampering around the floor and leaving streaks of a very light blue-silver color behind. It soon encircled Hermione, as if to protect her, before disappearing in front of everyone's eyes.

This time, it was Draco's turn to be shocked. "Boy, Granger, what are the chances that we would share the same Patronus?" he exclaimed.

Hermione didn't respond, and instead murmured, "I have to go." She strode right past him, not daring to look him in the eye, and Harry ran after her out of concern, leaving Draco and Snape alone in the Great Hall.

The moment they were gone, Draco lost it. "What the hell did I do?!" he shouted. "So Granger and I happen to share the same Patronus form. So what?! I bet loads of people here share Patronus forms with one another. There can't be that many different ones, can there?"

Snape held up his hand. "Mr. Malfoy, I can assure you, what you just witnessed is far from a coincidence," he said drolly.

"Then what is it?" demanded Draco. "Is this some sort of twisted Patronus thing that I just don't know about? Is it a joke? Tell me, Professor!"

Snape perched himself on the bench and said, "Mr. Malfoy, I believe that you're going to be wanting to sit down when you hear what I am about to reveal to you."

Draco nervously sat down next to his professor, tugging at the collar of his shirt. "What is it, sir?" he asked slowly. "What's going on? You're scaring me."

Snape surveyed his student's face, watching for his reaction. "You must forgive me," he said. "I suppose...well, I haven't been entirely truthful with you regarding Miss Granger or the events that have taken place these last few days."

"You mean, about the Dementors?" asked Draco. "Or maybe about Patronuses?"

"No," Snape replied darkly. "The love potion."

Draco felt a knot in his stomach. "Wait, this is about the love potion?" he asked carefully. "What about it? What weren't you honest with me about?"

Snape sighed. "If you may recall, Mr. Malfoy, the love potion that you and Miss Granger were subjected to was a particularly weak one," he said. "One that would not last longer than a couple of hours, at most. I trust that you figured that out."

"I remember hearing that somewhere," said Draco. "And we couldn't figure out why it hadn't worn away yet."

"Yes," agreed Snape. "I told Miss Granger's friends that the difference in magical blood between the two of you skewed the potion's effects on you quite drastically, when compared to its effects on Mr. Potter and Miss Brown. But in fact, that was not the truth."

Draco pursed his lips. "Then...what is the truth?"

"The truth is that the potion did indeed wear off," Snape admitted. "The effects that it had on the four of you did not differ. In other words, how it affected you was no different than how it affected Miss Granger, or Mr. Potter, or Miss Brown."

"But, Professor, that doesn't make any sense," Draco argued. "Everything that we have been feeling is because of the love potion. We know that, and so do you."

"Mr. Malfoy, you must listen to me," said Snape. "I did a bit of research on my own time, and after an extensive amount of deep thinking on the subject, I realized why you and Miss Granger had been affected as long as you were."

"Why, then?" demanded Draco. "I have to know, Professor."

Snape tapped his fingers on the table. "The reason why the potion wore off, but the effects did not diminish, was because the moment the two of you came into contact with it, it began to bring repressed feelings up to the surface," he said. "It isn't unheard of for this to happen, actually. And that precisely ties into why Mr. Potter and Miss Brown went back to normal so quickly...because they did not have buried feelings for one another, as you and Miss Granger clearly do."

Draco stared at Snape in shock. "No, there's no way. That can't be right!" he insisted. "I didn't have feelings for Granger before that day in Potions. You've got it wrong."

"Answer me this, then, Mr. Malfoy," Snape replied sternly. "If your feelings for her were not real, then why is she your happiest memory?"

"Because I enjoy spending time with her," Draco said, growing more anxious than he had been before. "Because she's fun to be around, because she makes me laugh, because we have a great time when we're together...that's why."

Snape smiled knowingly. "Is that so? Or could it all of those reasons..._and_ because you have fallen in love with her?"

Draco closed his eyes. Whatever that screwed-up potion had done to his brain to make it so...he _did_ feel like he loved her. More than he'd ever loved anyone. But that was completely the potion's doing, not his own. He couldn't _help_ feeling the feelings that he felt for her. "Yes, Professor. But it's not real. It _feels_ real, but it isn't."

"Then tell me this. Why did you fall in love with a girl after being influenced by a love potion that is not supposed to create actual love?" Snape tested.

Draco stopped short, finally unable to respond. _Bloody hell, he's right. Amortentia doesn't create real love. Just an obsession or infatuation. And that isn't what's happened to us at all._

"This is a reality that you both must face," Snape continued, clearly amused by how stunned Draco was. "And while we're on this subject, I believe that I have figured out the meaning of your Patronus."

Draco looked down at his hands. "Mine is the same as Granger's," he murmured as he began to come to the realization. "Just like yours was the same as the girl you...loved."

"Precisely," replied Snape.

"Then it _is_ real," Draco said, almost in a whisper. "Everything that Granger and I feel toward one another...all of it is real."

Snape nodded. "That is correct."

The bewildered Slytherin began to nervously tap his feet. "I don't believe this."

"I'm sure that this has come as quite a shock to the both of you," said Snape. "There is a chance that Miss Granger has now figured it out as well...or, at least, some of it. You would do well to explain it to her because she deserves to know the truth. Just like you did."

Draco stood up, trying to ignore the fact that his legs felt like flimsy jelly. "I guess you're right."

As he turned to go, Snape rose to his feet. "Oh, Mr. Malfoy. There is one more piece of news that I must share with you."

"Professor, no!" complained Draco. "This day has been trying enough as it is!"

"I believe you will find this news much more pleasant," replied Snape.

Draco stopped. "Alright, what is it?" he muttered.

Snape stepped forward, and the corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly. "Mr. Malfoy, today I found out that your mother is alive."

At his words, Draco's entire demeanor changed, and a floodgate of emotion overcame him. "She-she's alive?" he asked incredulously.

"Indeed, she is," answered Snape.

"You're not lying to me, are you, Professor?" asked Draco.

Snape shook his head. "I saw her with my own two eyes. In the flesh. And I can assure you that she is alive and well."

Draco's eyes began to fill with tears. "And my father? What about him?"

"I'm sorry. I'm afraid your father is really gone," Snape said regretfully, noticing Draco's frown upon hearing his words. "But your mother is still here, I assure you."

Draco sighed. "Thank goodness I still have Mum."

"Indeed, you do," said Snape. "Now, go on, Mr. Malfoy. I would advise that you seek out Miss Granger as soon as possible."

"Right," replied Draco. "Thanks, Professor. For everything."

And without another word to Snape, he took off running from the Great Hall.

…

…

By the time Draco arrived at Gryffindor Tower, he was completely out of breath. "I need to get in there!" he gasped, looking desperately at the Fat Lady.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Malfoy. Only people who know the password! And that is reserved for Gryffindors only!" she said shrilly.

"Please!" pleaded Draco. "I have to talk to Granger right now!"

The woman in the painting shook her head vigorously. "I cannot acquiesce to your request, Mr. Malfoy. Now run along. Ah, Mr. Longbottom! How wonderful to see you!"

Draco turned to see an exhausted Neville approaching the door, smiling at the Fat Lady. "Longbottom, I have to talk to Granger," he said quickly. "Can you _please_ go look for her and see if she's in there?"

"What for?" Neville asked.

Draco sighed. "It's between me and Granger. Private business, Longbottom. Just go get her, would you?"

"I guess so," Neville replied weakly. He whispered the password to the Fat Lady, who granted him access immediately, and the door closed.

"Bugger," Draco muttered.

For the next several minutes, he proceeded to pace up and down the corridor, nervously contemplating how he was going to break the news to Hermione. She had always been a rational, logic-driven sort of person, and he wondered if the best way to do it was the way that Snape had: slowly and scientifically. Which had never, ever been his preferred method of explaining things.

_I'm in deep trouble here._

At long last, Neville finally opened the door again. Draco perked up at the sight of the dorky Gryffindor. "Well, Longbottom? Where is she?"

"Malfoy, Hermione's not here," he answered. "Not in the common room, not in the lavatory, not in her dormitory, not-"

"How do you know she's not in her dormitory?" Draco pressed. "I didn't even think you were allowed to go in there."

"Parvati went and looked," explained Neville. "She didn't find Hermione anywhere. None of us know where she could be. I haven't even seen her since the meeting in the Great Hall."

Draco's heart dropped. "Well, thanks anyway, Longbottom," he muttered coldly, giving up on the subject. Without even saying goodbye, he strode off down the corridor, not noticing the questioning expression on Neville's face.

As he walked away, a sense of dread began to build up inside him. He couldn't help but wonder if Hermione was okay; she wasn't usually the type to run off without at least an explanation of some sort. And a tiny, nagging part of him contemplated the possibility that Hermione was angry with him, if there was even the tiniest possibility that she had figured out what was going on.

Still lost in his thoughts, Draco wandered aimlessly around the castle for a little while longer, not knowing exactly where he wanted to go. And eventually, he came upon the Hogwarts library, which happened to be completely empty.

_Maybe I can find something to read and get my mind off of this for a bit,_ he thought.

Reading wasn't something that Draco often did on his own time. Generally, he would only read when his professors forced him to, and sometimes he didn't even do it then.

Regardless of Draco's questionable study habits, he picked up a book about the history of Europe's magical creatures, ranging from hippogriffs to hinkypunks, and settled into one of the larger chairs near the back.

…

…

"Harry, leave me alone!"

Hermione stormed down the corridor, trying to put as much distance between her and the Great Hall as possible. Harry sprinted after her, trying in vain to get her to stop and talk to him, as he had been doing for the last several minutes. "Hermione, maybe it's just a coincidence!" he said. "Maybe you and Malfoy just-"

"Would you leave me alone?! I need to think!"

"Not until you stop and talk to me!"

"Keep following me, and you'll find yourself hanging from the Quidditch goal posts by your thumbs!"

"McGonagall would tear you apart for it, and you know that!"

"And it would be worth every second!"

Harry groaned; as much as he loved her, he despised how stubborn and hardheaded Hermione could be at times. It was one of the first things he'd learned about her when they'd first met, and it still irritated him just as much as it always had. "Would you just stop for one damned second?!"

Hermione halted, turning to glare stonily at her best friend. "Harry, I have to figure this out on my own," she said curtly. "I have to know if this means anything, and right now, you're not helping me one bit!"

"But maybe I could help, if you let me!" Harry protested.

She groaned. "I don't want your help! Why can't you accept that?"

"I'm worried about you!" Harry said angrily.

All of a sudden, the two friends heard a soft voice. "Is there a problem here?"

Severus Snape stood nearby, looking like he had just come back from the Great Hall. "No, Professor, there isn't a problem!" Harry snapped. "This is between Hermione and me, so if you wouldn't mind-"

"Shut it, Mr. Potter," Snape growled.

Hermione elbowed him on the arm. "You're an idiot," she whispered.

Harry rolled his eyes at her, and looked back at Snape. "We were just talking, Professor," he muttered. "Nothing important."

"Clearly," said Snape, obviously not believing Harry one bit. "Miss Granger, if I could have a word with you?"

Hermione was clearly confused by his request. "Of course, Professor," she said quietly. "I'll see you back in the common room, Harry."

Though he didn't want to, Harry obeyed and headed off down the corridor, fighting back the urge not to hurl one last snippy insult at his greasy-haired professor.

The moment Harry was out of sight, Hermione looked up at Snape. "What's this about?" she asked anxiously.

"I take it you haven't spoken with Mr. Malfoy yet," he said matter-of-factly.

"No, sir," replied Hermione. "I mean, not since he and Harry got into that argument. Why?"

Snape folded his arms over his chest. "He has a matter to discuss with you."

Hermione groaned. "If he's about to get on my case about that stupid fight with Harry, I might as well just-"

"No, Miss Granger," Snape interrupted. "Nothing that trivial, I can assure you. This is something of far more importance than that."

Hermione clamped her mouth shut. "Oh," she squeaked out.

Snape nodded. "So, with that being said, I advise that you talk with him as soon as you can," he continued.

As he turned to leave, Hermione cleared her throat nervously. "Professor? Does this have anything to do with what happened earlier?" she asked. "When I found out that Draco's Patronus is identical to mine?"

Snape turned to look back at her. "It does, indeed, Miss Granger," he replied. "But it must be Mr. Malfoy that explains the meaning of it, not me."

Hermione seemed to deflate for a moment, and she looked down at the ground. "I think a part of me already knows what it means, sir," she murmured softly.

Snape said nothing more, striding away and leaving her there in the middle of the corridor to ponder her thoughts alone.

…

…

For the rest of the afternoon, Hermione remained lost in her thoughts. She wandered around the castle for a very long time-longer than she realized she did, in fact-and while she wandered, she would find herself sitting down in different places for a few minutes, thinking, and then getting up to relocate. It was an odd thing that she did sometimes...well, she didn't really find it odd, but her friends did. Especially Ron, who she always joked didn't really have a history of thinking and using his own brain, so he wouldn't understand why it was helpful for her.

Hermione was so engrossed in her thoughts that she didn't even realize what time it was until dinner was over. But despite that fact, she couldn't help but smile; Harry and Ron were probably going bonkers wondering where she had gone. And for once, she was okay with that.

As she walked along, Hermione noticed that the library door was wide open. _That's odd,_ she thought. _Everyone knows that the library closes before dinner on Sunday nights. Someone is breaking the rules, no doubt about that. Shame on them. _

She peeked into the library and found it almost completely dark; given that the beautiful evening sunset had already given way to a dark blue canopy dotted with twinkling stars, as well as all of the torches having been blown out, the thought of someone going into the library was very puzzling to her. Nevertheless, she was curious, and stepped inside, carefully shutting the door behind her.

"_Lumos,_" she whispered. The tip of her wand lit up, and she trudged slowly through the library, dodging the tables and chairs that were scattered about the room. Although there were many odd-looking shadows present, none of them looked like that of a person, and she grew more confused with each one she passed.

"Is someone here?" she asked, a little louder. "The library is closed."

There was no answer.

Hermione's confusion began to give way to irritation, and as she continued along toward the back section of the library, wondering if someone was hiding there, she heard the faintest scratching sound nearby. "What the hell?" she wondered aloud.

Suddenly, there came a loud cough, and Hermione's heart practically jumped out of her chest. It seemed to be close by, and she immediately aimed her light in the direction from which it had come. In her stunned state, she noticed a shadowed figure sitting in a chair just a few feet away. He appeared to be asleep, and there was a book laying open on his lap. Hermione's eyes bugged out of her head. "_Draco?_ Is that you?" she exclaimed.

The sound of her voice began to rouse him from his sleep, and he opened his eyes. "Who's asking?" he grumbled sleepily.

Hermione slapped her hand over her heart. "You scared the shit out of me!" she said angrily. "What are you even doing in here? You don't read. That's not like you at all, actually."

"Not usually," replied Draco, stretching his arms out. "But why should you be surprised? As I understand it, you're here pretty much all the time."

Hermione placed her hands snootily on her hips. "I'm not here for the books," she muttered. "I'm here because the library has been closed for hours, and yet, the door was wide open."

"The library's closed?" Draco echoed. "What time is it?"

"Half-past I'm hungry," grumbled Hermione, placing her hand on her growling stomach.

Draco sat up. "Shoot. Dinner's probably over by now."

Hermione nodded, plopping down on the ottoman that sat nearby. "Took you long enough. What are you doing in here, anyway?" she asked.

At her question, Draco sighed. "Needed to get my mind off of a few things."

"Like what?" Hermione asked, setting her wand down on the arm of the chair so she could see him better. "Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?"

Draco laced his hands together nervously and bit his lip. "Actually, it has something to do with you, Granger," he said. "Us."

Hermione's spirits wilted. "Professor Snape did say that you needed to talk to me about something," she murmured. "Right?'

Draco shrugged. "Now that you're here, I might as well."

He began to tap his foot anxiously, and Hermione placed her hand gently on his knee. "Draco, don't worry. You can tell me anything. You can trust me, remember?"

"I know that, Granger," he replied. "That's not the issue."

"Then what is?" pressed Hermione. "Don't leave me in the dark here."

Draco snickered, and Hermione realized what she'd said. "Well, I can't very well do that if you don't put your light out," he said, seeing the furious blush spreading over her cheeks.

Hermione flicked him. "Oh, quit it, you prat," she muttered. "Now, what's wrong?"

Draco stared down at the floor, which at the moment looked like a black void of pure nothingness. "It's about the love potion, Granger," he said almost inaudibly. "I guess something happened that we didn't know about. I didn't even know that it _could_ happen, actually."

"What happened?" asked Hermione.

"Well," began Draco, "what Professor Snape told me was...I guess the potion was expected to wear off after a couple of hours since it wasn't very powerful. And I was under the impression that it just didn't wear off at all, so something must have gone loopy. But according to Snape, the potion _did_ wear off. Within the expected time frame and everything."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "But how is that possible?" she asked.

Draco let out a pained sigh, clearly hesitant to continue talking. "That's what I wondered, too," he said. "And I asked him. Well, I suppose I sort of got a bit pissy, since I thought he was wrong or something. Obviously, he knew what he was talking about, or else he wouldn't have been the Potions Master for so many years, you know? And he sort of-"

"Draco." Hermione placed her hand on top of his, and he abruptly shut his mouth. "What exactly did Snape tell you?"

He sighed again. "He said that the effects the potion had on us were no different than the effects it had on Potter and Brown. Which I thought was-"

"Poppycock," Hermione interrupted. "What is he thinking? I swear, that is such a huge pile of bullshi-"

Draco pressed a finger to her lips, and she stopped talking. "Just let me finish, Granger. I thought the same thing, alright? I figured that he had gone mad for sure. But he explained to me that if people have repressed feelings, feelings that already exist but are buried deep down...then a love potion can bring those feelings to light. That's what he thinks happened, and honestly, it seems to make a fair bit of sense."

Hermione seemed a bit shocked, but not nearly as shocked as he'd expected her to be. "I suppose it does make sense," she said softly.

"You don't really seem that surprised," Draco replied, clearly puzzled.

She shrugged. "I'm not. I guess I started to get a weird feeling when I found out that the two of us share the same Patronus," she said. "It didn't seem random. And I spent a while thinking it over, and that was one of the possibilities that popped into my head. I thought it was absurd, but then I remembered Remus Lupin and his wife, Tonks."

Draco wrinkled his nose at the mention of his cousin. "What do either of them have to do with this?"

"Professor Lupin's Patronus was a wolf," explained Hermione. "Not a surprise. But when Tonks fell in love with him, hers changed from a rabbit to a wolf, to match his. That's how I knew the idea wasn't completely mental."

To her surprise, Draco chuckled. "You're quite the know-it-all, Granger."

"I'm well aware of this, Draco," she said stiffly.

"So, what do we do?" he asked. "Now that we know that everything that's happened between us is real? All the feelings, everything we've done together...all of it?"

Hermione fiddled with a loose thread on the hem of her shirt. "I don't know what to do," she mumbled. "If anything, it feels more like a lie now than it did before we knew the truth. At least, it does to me."

Her words pained Draco to the core. "I understand," he said quietly. "It may take a while to come to terms with it. But what matters, Granger, is that it's real. It doesn't _feel_ real. It doesn't _seem _real. It _is_ real. Nothing that exists between us is a lie. It never was."

Hermione said nothing for a moment, staring off toward one of the large library windows. She was beginning to feel truly conflicted about the situation; quite the opposite of how Draco was feeling, in fact. "Everything that's happened...I have to look at it differently now," she finally said.

"I will, too," Draco agreed. "And it's weird to think about. But that doesn't mean my feelings for you have changed at all. Have yours?"

Hermione looked back at him. "Pardon me?"

"Have your feelings changed?" Draco repeated. "About...about me?"

She shook her head. "No, Draco. They haven't changed."

"Then what's the problem?" he asked, noticing that his voice was beginning to rise.

Hermione crossed her arms. "I don't know. Maybe I just need some time to think things over."

"What do you have to think about?" Draco demanded. "You said nothing had changed!"

Hermione snorted derisively. "No, I didn't say that!" she argued. "I said my _feelings_ for you haven't changed, and that's the honest truth. But everything else has changed! I just need some time to process everything, and if you care enough about me, you'll accept that!"

Draco leaned back in his chair. "Fine. Do what you want," he muttered. "I just thought things were going to be easier than this."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but usually when magic is involved, things aren't easier," Hermione shot back. "Not this sort of thing, anyway."

"Huh. I never thought you of all people would be the one to say that," replied Draco.

Hermione shrugged, and stood up. "I'll see you later, alright?"

"Yeah," mumbled Draco. "See you." He watched as Hermione grabbed her wand, turned on her heel and headed out of the library. A stinging feeling of bitterness began to envelope him at the sound of the door shutting loudly, and he was left alone in total darkness again.

…

…

By the time Hermione entered Gryffindor Tower, she had begun to lose her composure. It hadn't really hit her until she had reached the door to the common room, and as the tears began to flow, she internally cursed herself for feeling so weak and emotional.

Hermione ascended up the stairs to her dormitory, and came upon Parvati, Bindy, and Romilda sitting silently on their beds. "Is everything alright?" she asked carefully, a bit taken aback by how quiet the room was.

Romilda looked up at her. "I guess so. The dormitory just isn't the same without Lavender," she said sadly.

Bindy nodded in agreement. "It's weird without her here."

"I know," Hermione mumbled. She unwound Draco's green scarf from her bedpost and started rummaging around for the hat that Ginny had lent her when Parvati spoke up.

"Hermione, what in the world are you doing?" she asked worriedly.

"Looking for Ginny's hat," Hermione replied, spying it beside her bed and holding it up.

Romilda cocked an eyebrow. "You're not going out in the cold, are you?" she asked. "It's freezing out there. You're sure to catch frostbite."

"It's not a good idea," Bindy murmured, pulling the covers of her bed up around her shoulders. "You should stay in and rest, after the long day we've all had."

"Don't worry," Hermione assured her. "I'll be fine. I won't be out there long, anyway. Just got some thinking to do. Okay?"

All three of her roommates nodded mutely, deciding that it wasn't worth it to argue, and Hermione left the room without another word.

…

…

By the time she made it to her destination, the temperature of the air had dropped quite a bit, and the snow had started to pick up. Hermione knew she was crazy for wanting to sit out in a snowstorm for some private think time, rather than inside, next to a warm, cozy fire in the Gryffindor common room. But then again, she had never really been the conventional type.

Hermione sat down next to the same stone formation that she and Draco had encountered a couple of days before, and leaned her head against the freezing cold surface. It was bumpy and uneven, but she didn't really care at all. It was better than having nothing to lean on.

As she sat in the snow, staring out into the distance, a number of questions began to form in her mind. Hermione had always hated being uncertain about things, and this time was no exception. She hated not knowing the answer to something, especially the questions that were bothering her the most at that very moment.

_Will the Dementors come back? They wouldn't give up that easily, would they?_

_What will happen to Lavender and Ernie?_

_Who cast the doe that saved me and my friends?_

_Is Draco okay?_

_How is Ron holding up?_

_What would have happened if Draco hadn't found Harry in time?_

_How can any of us go on normally after everything that's happened?_

_What's going to happen between Draco and me?_

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, scolding herself for thinking of her former nemesis so frequently. "I can't be with him," she muttered. "I don't...I can't. Everything is different now."

She kept going back to their conversation in the library. How he'd seemed so earnest when declaring that his feelings for her were real, not just a figment of a stupid love potion. How angry he'd gotten when she couldn't give him a straight answer as to what she wanted to happen. How heartbroken and utterly dejected he'd looked when she'd left him there by himself, in the dark.

"Do I really love him?" she wondered aloud. "Or is this my mind playing tricks on me?"

She thought back to that day in the dungeons, after they'd been exposed to the potion in Snape's class. The passion that had existed between them at that moment was unlike anything she'd ever felt in her life. She'd known, in the very back of her mind, that what was happening between them was so completely wrong...and yet, it had felt so damn right.

She remembered the Quidditch match, and how she'd felt when she saw the Bludger advancing on Draco. Hermione couldn't remember the last time she'd been so frightened for someone...truly, it had happened so many times during her schooling years that she'd just lost count by that point. But the relief that had flooded through her body upon seeing him emerge safely from the smoke was overwhelming, to say the least.

Her mind began to wander, exploring every memory she held of him that had come to exist within the past week. From their adventure to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes to the moment she had introduced him to Misty for the first time; from the day she had discovered the letter that had come from the Ministry regarding his parents to their late-night dancing session; from their visit to the Founders' portrait to the night he gave her the magic locket; she thought back to them all. And her heart began to ache in her chest.

_I really do love him. So why, then, am I so hesitant to be with him?_

"Granger? Is that you over there?"

She flinched at the sound of the voice in the distance, and turned around to see the very boy who had been mercilessly disrupting her thoughts for the last several minutes. "Draco? How did you know I would be here? Did you follow me?"

Draco shook his head. "Of course I didn't. Call it a hunch," he replied. "May I sit?"

She shrugged, and he sat down beside her. "I told you that I needed to be alone and think," she muttered. "Why did you come here?"

He sighed, a hint of a smile evident on his face. "Granger, no offense, but I know you. And chances are, you would think as long and as hard as you could, and it might just take days. Besides, I couldn't just let you run off like that, after everything that's happened."

Hermione crossed her arms. "So? Why are you here?" she asked again.

"Perspective," he replied.

"Care to explain?"

"You don't know what perspective is? Blimey, Granger, I thought you were smarter than-"

"I know what perspective is, you twat waffle."

Draco chuckled. "I guess I came here to know your side of things, Granger," he said. "How you feel about everything, and why you're not happy about it."

"I never said I wasn't happy," replied Hermione. "I'm just confused. Wouldn't you be?"

He nodded. "Of course, I would be. I _am_. But that doesn't mean I want things between us to change."

Hermione kicked at a hard clump of snow near her shoe. "I wish they hadn't changed at all."

"But if they hadn't, we would have been living a lie," Draco protested. "And it would have been so much harder to come back from it. You know that."

She shrugged. "I guess you're right."

Draco reached over and took her hand in his, lacing their fingers together perfectly. "Granger, now that we know the truth, we can decide what we want," he said slowly. "I know what I want. Now it's your turn to fess up."

Hermione glanced down at their entwined hands, before moving her gaze up to his face. His cheeks were the palest shade of pink from the cold, as was the tip of his nose, and his eyelashes were dotted with snowflakes. She noted that he looked the slightest bit scared, but at the same time, she found it a little bit endearing. It was pretty common knowledge that Draco wasn't the sort of person to show weakness of any kind in front of other people, but it clearly didn't seem to matter when he was with her.

She took a deep breath. "Draco, I want to make sure you know that I'm not angry with you."

"I'd hoped you weren't," he said sheepishly.

"Well, I'm not," replied Hermione. "I'm sorry if it came off that way. This whole situation is just so confusing for me."

He nodded gently, squeezing her hand. "I know that, Granger."

Hermione shivered, and continued on. "And I've been doing some thinking. And, you know, things between us can get rocky sometimes. We both know that. But...well, I...I don't-"

"What is it?" Draco asked. "You can tell me." He tensed up, bracing for the worst.

"But that doesn't mean I don't want to try and make things work," she finally blurted.

As soon as the words abruptly left her mouth, she smiled to herself. Not a single ounce of her spirit regretted saying them.

Draco, on the other hand, was completely caught by surprise upon hearing her statement, and his confused look made Hermione laugh out loud. "You-you what?" he sputtered.

"You heard me, Ferret," she replied. "I'm not repeating myself."

Draco blinked. "Did I hear you correctly?" he asked. "I mean, I'm not just imagining that, am I, Granger? Because that's sort of a cruel thing to joke about, so I hope you-"

The feel of Hermione's icy cold lips suddenly landing on his for a brief moment made him stop talking, and she chuckled. "Draco, shut up. You heard me right. I don't want to tell you again, or you're getting a snowball down your pants."

The very thought of such a sensation made Draco shudder. "It's not smart to threaten your boyfriend, you know," he said slyly.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Deal with it," she muttered, leaning back against the stone formation and looking out over the horizon again.

"Fine," he replied, noticing that she wore a small smile. "But what are we going to tell people? Don't you think they'll start to wonder when we're still together fifty years from now?"

Hermione snorted. "We'll be long gone by then," she said. "And fifty years? Really? Draco, you don't even know what you're going to be having for lunch tomorrow. How can you predict what's going to happen fifty years down the line?"

"No need to get defensive," Draco snickered. "It was only a thought. Now, what about Potter and Weasley?"

"What about them?" asked Hermione.

Draco traced the shape of a diamond into the snow next to his leg. "They're sure to wonder what's going on, aren't they?" he asked.

Hermione glanced up at him, and he noticed that her beautiful brown eyes had lit up with that familiar sparkle of happiness that he loved so much. "Then we let them wonder."

She said nothing more, and laid her head on Draco's shoulder. He slipped his arm protectively around her and pulling her closer to him, hoping to at least warm her up a little bit, and he noticed that she had his green scarf looped sloppily around her neck. The sight made him smile, and he kissed her gently on the forehead, relishing the feeling of finally having her back in his arms again. And for the first time in a long time, both teenagers were completely at peace. With the world, with themselves…

And with one another.

**A/N: Oh my goodness, it's finally done! For all you hardcore Dramione shippers out there, I hope I was able to provide you with a good, long read. Fun fact: This is actually the longest story I've ever written; I'm more accustomed to writing one-shots and two-shots and those sorts of things, and I hope my first long story was a success. **

**Please, please let me know what you thought about this story. It really means a lot to me when you all review/PM me about your thoughts and feelings and everything. I love reading through them so much, and it always makes my day to hear what you guys have to say.**

**I think for a little bit, I'm just going to focus on doing one-shots and shorter stories, but I'm already thinking about doing a sequel for this story, and that's about as far as my thought process has gotten on that idea. What do you think? Good idea? Feel free to let me know your thoughts about the whole thing, and until next time, I love you guys! Thank you for reading!**

**-BlackthornUnicorn98**


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